


FOR SERVICES RENDERED

by Quill_lumos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-29
Updated: 2007-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 09:59:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 46
Words: 120,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10160681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quill_lumos/pseuds/Quill_lumos
Summary: Harry Potter has been missing since childhood, Voldemort is on the rise again, a young Tom Riddle was resurrected when the Chamber of Secrets was opened and a child died, the prophecy says that only The Chosen One  can defeat him, but where is he?......





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. 

 

 

**Warning: This story is graphic and contains slavery and scenes of rape. This fic is very dark in places, please do not read it if you think you might be squicked or upset by the themes that it contains.**

 

**FOR SERVICES RENDERED**

 

There was no doubt that the boy was beautiful. He was easily the most beautiful creature that Severus had ever seen, and well trained too. He wore a simple silver collar and cuffs and one or two strategically placed piercings that could be adorned or not, whatever his master chose. The boy was trained to be perfectly submissive in every way. He knelt on the floor with his hands clasped behind his back, his knees spread wide, his dark head, with its rows of thick plaits, was bent. He was offering himself to Severus to use how he pleased.

And Severus was tempted. He sat there sipping the honeyed concoction that the slave had just served him and examining his gift. The boy’s eyes were like liquid chocolate, his skin was café-au-lait, finally Severus couldn’t help himself: he fancied a sweet snack and this boy was on offer. He knew Dumbledore would kill him when he found out, but then it was Dumbledore’s fault that he was here in the first place, wasn’t it? 

Here he was, in the back of bloody beyond, with some sort of vampire clan, while Lupin had gotten to go to America to search for the Potter boy. They had finally found a lead on the child after all those years, hearing rumours of a dark-haired, green-eyed boy who had been adopted by a family in the Midwest. Severus would even have preferred to go in search of James Potter’s brat than be here in the benighted Urals, but Dumbledore had insisted. 

“We have to have them on board, Severus,” he’d said, in his jovial way. “If we don’t bring them to us, then they will side with Voldemort, and we can’t have that. We need as many supporters as we can get.” So here he was in Somethingastan, being offered a little fuck toy for helping to cure the current chief of a particularly nasty sunburn with a timely potion. The boy, he had been assured, was well over eighteen, since Severus would not touch anyone younger than that. Even he could see that the young man in front of him was no virgin and was more than experienced. 

Severus was a Slytherin; he knew that the boy had been in this place a long time and had undoubtedly learned his skills very much earlier than eighteen. If he did not fuck the boy tonight, someone else would, he told himself, and that would be a shame. Severus knew he was pretty unattractive to other men - much of that due to his greasy hair and acerbic personality - but it meant that he did not get many chances to spend the night with a willing partner and never with one as delectable as the slave in front of him right now. 

This boy could not refuse; Severus could do whatever he wanted to him, and he would take it and even smile and thank him because that was how he had been taught to behave. This clan kept slaves, Muggle slaves, and trained them from childhood to serve them. Wizards were turned and joined the ranks of the clan, but Muggles were kept until they had become unattractive, or outlived their usefulness, and then they were drained. This one would have been taken from his family in childhood, or bred in the clan pens, and would have known nothing other than servitude for most, or all of his life.

“Come here, boy,” he said quietly. He knew the boy spoke English because Suliman had told him that he did. It was one of the reasons they had chosen him as a gift for Severus. But a leer and a grope of the boy’s arse from the obsequious servant, which had provoked not a single flinch from the boy, had told Severus that there might be other reasons that he had been selected to serve. 

“Yes, Masteerr,” the boy answered in his heavily accented English, as he moved forward quickly and gracefully to kneel at Severus’ feet. “How may this slave seerrve dyou, Masteerr?”

“Well, you can begin, boy, by getting me undressed, and then, I think, you can put that pretty little mouth of yours to work.”

It did not seem very long before the boy had stripped Severus of most of his clothing, sensuously, item by item, using his teeth to undo buttons and zips. Licking and caressing and kissing Severus reverentially as he did so. Severus was having a wonderful time! He was standing, naked, with the boy on his knees, already very hard by the time the slave started to lick and suck his cock. He was very skilled indeed. He ran his pierced tongue up and down the shaft of the thick hard organ, and then, as Severus moaned some more, he began to swallow him whole, still massaging Severus with his tongue as he did so. The feeling was overwhelming. Severus could not help himself. The boy’s mouth was hot and talented, and he took handfuls of the useful hairstyle that the boy wore and began to vigorously fuck him hard, pushing the young man's delicate nose into his pubic curls. The slave must have been finding it hard to breathe, but Severus was not thinking about that. He was not thinking of anything, really, but the coming orgasmic explosion; and when it came, shooting Severus’ semen deep into his throat, the boy just quietly swallowed it all.

Looking down at the boy once his orgasm was over, Severus felt embarrassed. His cock, deflated now, was still held gently between the boy’s lips which he could see were a little swollen. His face was red from struggling for breath, but still he kept his eyes lowered, acting as if what had happened to him was the most normal thing in the world. For him, Severus thought, it probably was.

But then Severus noticed the come at the corner of the slave’s mouth; it had not yet dried and was pooled there shining like a viscous, milky tear, and, for some unaccountable reason, that turned him on. His cock filled rapidly again, and he knew he just had to have the boy. Now. This minute. He grabbed the versatile plaits that adorned the boy’s head and dragged him, unresisting, to the bed. He flung the boy face down, straddled his thighs, grabbed handfuls of the peachy arse and, with no further preparation, rammed himself inside. The boy’s anus was so incredibly tight! So hot! Severus pounded into him, desperate for release, and, well trained as the boy was, he still could not clamp down on the strangled scream that he let out when Severus entered him. That, of course, increased Severus’s ardour; he pounded even harder, his actions getting easier for him as the whimpering boy started to bleed from his anus and his fucking became lubricated.

 

 

 

When Severus awoke, it was morning. The chamber was stuffy and gloomy with the shutters closed, allowing just the odd shaft of sunlight to illuminate the dancing dust motes. The smell of sex and blood was everywhere, and Severus was startled to feel a warm body lying next to his. And then he remembered the boy! Severus sat up; or rather he tried to sit up. His head felt like it was splitting, and his cock felt like it had been skinned.

“Oh, fuck,” he thought. “If this is how I feel, what does the poor child I raped feel like now?” Because that is what it had been - rape. The boy had been passive, unresisting. Severus could have done anything with him, and yet what he had chosen to do was violent and sadistic. Severus felt deeply ashamed. “Maybe,” he told himself, “maybe it had been a dream, an erotic, highly charged dream, but not real, surely not real?” Severus would never rape anyone; he had never taken part in any of those Death Eater revels that Voldemort liked to hold. He had always held himself apart, much to the scorn of his companions, but never, not once, had he given in and joined them in their adventures; not until now, anyway. 

He tentatively cracked open an eye, hoping that he had been dreaming and had visited a prostitute for some expensive, but essentially consensual, sex the night before. But no, lying beside him, asleep and still on his stomach, was the slave from the previous evening. He was covered in bruises and bite marks and, on his thighs and the cheeks of his arse, the blood and cum had dried to a hard crust. His wrists were still tangled in the long plaits that adorned his head, trapped in place, where Severus had tied them the night before.

Severus got rapidly up from the bed in which they were lying and rushed to the adjoining bathroom, where he was messily and violently sick.

He knelt in front of the toilet bowl feeling disgusted with himself. How could he do that? How could he have treated the boy on his bed the way he had? He may not have had many partners in his life, but he had treasured them all. He was a considerate lover, a fact that may have surprised many that knew him but which was nonetheless true.

He stood and washed his face, hoping that the cool water would calm him somewhat. He then turned to see the bright unfathomable eyes of the dark haired slave gazing questioningly at him. He had managed to half turn towards him and was looking at Severus with fear evident in every line of his still naked body.

“Masteerr?” he asked. “May thees slave help dyou?”

Severus fell to his knees and started to sob.

Seconds later, the boy was beside him, kneeling down, hands still tied, trying ineffectually to pet and comfort the man before him.

“Masteer, Masteer, may thees slave seerrve dyou? May thees slave help dyou? Masteer!” His voice was becoming frantic, and his breathing was fast and shallow. Severus realised that the vampire clan’s idea of fluency in English was very different from the actuality. He knew that, in all probability, the boy’s grasp of the language was pretty patchy. 

The poor boy did not know what was going on. He had been given a task to do; he had been given to Severus to entertain him and had tried his best to do that. But now his temporary Master was on his knees crying, and the boy thought he had done something wrong. After Severus’ performance the night before, he was undoubtedly terrified of the punishment that might be coming his way.

So Severus pulled himself together with great difficulty and looked at the boy beside him. The slave had lowered his eyes again, but his small, white teeth were worrying at his lower lip. “May thees slave seerrve dyou, Masteer?” he asked again, peering up enquiringly at Snape through his inky black lashes. Then Snape did something that would have shocked his students to the very core had they ever had the chance to see it themselves: he looked at the boy kneeling beside him, and he smiled; a kind, gentle smile that crinkled his eyes and changed the shape of his whole face.

“No, you did good,” he said. “Master is pleased with you. You are a good boy.” 

Now the boy was smiling too, “Thees slave did good?”

“Yes,” Severus asserted, nodding to emphasize his words. “Let’s go and wash. You and me, we are very dirty.” He reached over, untangled the boy’s wrists from his hair and gently lowered them, noticing the slight flinch of pain that the boy immediately tried to hide.

“Ssshh,” he said, placing his finger tenderly on the boy’s lips, hoping that that sound and gesture was universal, and the boy understood that he was not cross. Then, Severus took his slim delicate hand in his own larger one and led him slowly into the bathroom. 

The room was beautiful; they were situated high in the castle, in one of the towers overlooking lakes and mountains. The bathroom boasted an enormous white porcelain tub and sparkling mosaic tiles. Severus filled the bath with hot foamy water, adding a few drops of one of the healing potions that he always carried with him to the brew. When it was ready, he stepped into the bath, gently encouraging a very bewildered slave to follow him in. The boy did so without protest and then sat on his heels, wincing slightly when Severus gestured him down; he was obviously sore, though he was trying very hard, it seemed, to ignore that.

Severus’ heart clenched. He knew he would never be able to forgive himself for what he had done the night before. It mattered not that the boy in front of him did not seem unduly upset by what had occurred, which meant that for him, such treatment was not unusual. Severus was appalled, nonetheless, at his own behaviour, and he strove to try to make amends to the dark haired slave.

“What is your name, boy?” he asked him softly. The young man just stared at him in bewilderment. He pointed to himself and said, “Severus. Master’s name is Severus. What is _your_ name?” 

Again the boy started to worry his lower lip, an obvious habit with him. Maybe his trainers had allowed it to continue because it was rather endearing. After a second or two the boy seemed to have gathered together his courage, for this time he spoke, though so quietly that Severus had to strain to hear him.

“Farid,” he said. “It is name Farid.”


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Farid had never had a master like this one before. He knelt in the bath while his master washed him? It wasn’t supposed to be like that. Normally he got hosed down when he was dirty in the yard outside. He had never in all his life been touched like this, so kindly, so gently. Although he had bathed plenty of men, he had never had a bath himself as far as he could remember, and he could not help luxuriating in the feel of the warm soapy water as it lapped against his sore limbs and anus. 

When Farid had been sent to his new master last night, he had been curious, as all slaves were when they were given to someone new. Last night the man had been scary, scowling at him and using Farid roughly. But Farid was used to that. His pleasure had never mattered to anyone before. He had been treated far more harshly than this in the past, but on the whole, he had not often been used that roughly. Yet _no one_ had ever tried to make amends to Farid. He was a slave; sex was what he was here for, however it came.

When Master had been vomiting, Farid had panicked because he was supposed to serve him no matter what. The fact that his hands were still tied or that his arsehole burned like it was on fire, why that didn’t matter at all. So he had scrambled over to the tall English man in terror to see what he could do. But then his master had been gentle with him, so gentle. Farid, felt tears prickling the back of his eyes, when his new master _Severus_ had placed his finger gently on his lips and hushed him like a mother would her child. Farid had never had that, not even when he was a small child himself. All Farid could remember from those days was a dark cupboard and hatred and dislike. 

But this man was his new master, and he was the kindest man that Farid had ever known. Maybe he would really like him, if Farid could look after him properly? Maybe he would take him away with him back to England? Farid thought he would like to go there. He knew that a long time ago he had come from England himself. Farid could not help himself: for the first time in a long time, he began to have hope. Hope that he would survive, that he could be with someone who cared for him, and that the feelings he was already beginning to feel for his new master would some day be returned.

How could he not hope that? His master looked at him with such kindness, such concern, almost as if Farid were something beautiful and fragile; when Farid knew he was neither. And still, he washed Farid’s body gently, tutting over the bite marks and bruises. Farid thought it was almost worth getting them in the first place in order to be so tenderly treated. 

Farid peeked at the stern man from under his smoky eyelashes, yet Master did not seem to mind as he smiled at him and talked in soft tones. Of course, he could not understand half of what Master was saying, but every so often words would make sense. “Good boy,” and “Ssshhh,” he understood those. He put his fingers to his lips to trace where his master had touched him and smiled secretively to himself. He knew that he had indeed lost his heart to this strange man with the big nose and the greasy hair. Farid had last night, in the space of a moment, fallen deeply, irrevocably in love.

 

 

Severus finished washing the boy, soothing away all the blood and come and gently cleaning the bites and bruises. The young man was stunning; his skin was soft and silky, unblemished apart from the wounds that he had cruelly inflicted the night before. Severus could not help himself, he wanted to stroke that velvet skin, run his fingers along the ropey plaits with the little silver bells and beads and ornaments that had been woven through them. This boy was going to be very hard to leave behind, very hard indeed. 

He could see that Farid was watching him. Although he was trying hard to hide his naked curiosity, he was not having much success. So he smiled at him again and told him once more what a good boy he was. The slave’s face lit up as from within, and he tentatively started to stroke Severus leg in what seemed like silent wonder with the back of his fingers. 

Severus kindly took the boy’s hand in his much larger one and gave it a gentle squeeze, before returning it to him and then he stood to finally wash himself. He felt something warm and wet touch the very tip of his penis. A shiver went through him. He was sore, very sore, but the thrill of that gentle touch sent the blood rushing back, making him rock hard in seconds. It could only have been Farid, he knew, so he looked down at the boy; Farid looked back at him, mischief shining in his brown eyes. 

“Sank dyou, Masteerr,” he said with a small smile playing on his lips. “Dyou is kind to Farid.”

Severus realised that this boy was not broken, as he set to with his loving ministrations of Severus’ cock. He might have been a slave used for sex for most of his life, but he had survived such rough treatment somehow and, wonder of wonders, was not broken at all. A thrill ran through Severus as the boy ministered to his aching member. Gently, lovingly he licked and kissed and caressed it with his tongue; round the tip, along the shaft and then - he opened that pretty mouth of his and once again swallowed Severus whole - into that hot, wet sweetness. 

This time, Severus let the boy do what he wanted to. He did not fight the slave, or force him. The boy had nothing to give but his skill, and just how much he was skilled became ever more apparent. Severus doubted that anyone had ever enjoyed these loving ministrations in quite the way that Farid was giving them now, with such care, such tender ferociousness. He soon found he could not think at all, and for a very long time, he just gave in and let himself ride on wave after wave of exquisite pleasure.

 

 

Sometime later, they lay entwined on the bed. Severus was watching Farid sleep. He was absolutely stunning, this boy, as he lay curled against Severus in the morning light; shadow and sunshine glinted against the silver rings that had been set in his pierced nipples and left interesting shapes dancing across his skin. His chest was rising gently as he abandoned himself to a sensuous catnap, head resting on his Master’s shoulder, arm wrapping around Severus’ own. The boy sighed gently in slumber, a tiny smile playing across his lips as he snuggled closer. 

Severus felt like weeping.

Throughout his life he had been lonely. He had had no-one. Many of his bad choices, his wrong decisions, had been made because of the fact that he had been alone and always thought he would be.

And yet this boy, who had nothing, had given Severus more than anyone else ever had. Last night the boy had tried to please him out of duty, because that was what he was for. But just then, in the bathroom, Farid had worshipped Severus, bringing his body so much pleasure that Severus had to do something for him in return. He vowed that, somehow, he would take the boy with him. No matter what Dumbledore thought or said, he could not leave him here; he was too precious for that. Severus wanted to protect him, care for him. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone, not since he had suffered long ago from the pain of the unrequited love that he had so freely given to Lily Evans, and then later James Potter.

Severus didn’t care about the alliance with the vampires any more; he wondered how Dumbledore lived with himself, making deals with the sort of people who could treat a boy like this. But then, he thought, he had been happy enough to deal with them himself only yesterday. Somehow this little thief, who had captured his mind and his heart, had produced an epiphany in his soul.

A small sigh from Farid had sent his breath whickering across Severus’ chest, followed by the tiniest of shivers from the naked boy held in his arms; Severus felt his heart skip a beat. 

He looked down at the young man and saw a pair of deep brown pools lof chocolate gazing back up at him, filled with raw emotion. Severus knew what it was in those eyes, although he had seen it directed at him little enough; it was the look of love. This slave, this man-child, had fallen in love with him, and Severus blessed whatever god had brought him here three days ago. But Farid had lowered his eyes again; he had obviously been taught that this was not allowed, looking directly at his master. Severus felt differently however; he knew he could never get enough of that look, never get enough of Farid’s expressive eyes. He gently placed a finger beneath the boy’s chin and titled his face to look at him.

“Farid,” he said. “Look at me, Farid.”

Farid’s forehead creased, not quite sure what his master wanted of him. Severus touched the corner of his own eyes, and then the boy’s, waving his finger between them. When the boy followed his direction and looked him in the eye he said, “Good boy. Good boy, Farid.” 

Farid smiled again, showing neat white teeth and said in his husky voice, “Farid look at Masteerr. Farid did good?”

“Farid did good,” Severus asserted, and he leaned over to claim those perfect lips in a fierce, hungry kiss.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

It was evening again. Severus sat watching his slave sleep, and he _was_ Severus’ slave, he knew that now. He wondered what he was going to do; slaves did not exist in the wizarding world any more, well not apart from house elves, obviously. Albus was going to absolutely murder him. Yusuf had told him that the claiming last night had effectively made Farid his: permanently. How was Severus supposed to know that the honeyed drink, that he thought was to relax him, contained a very powerful lust potion? He had, after all, accepted a number of other drinks in the time that he had been here, and none of them had had such an effect.

That had been what had nearly driven him insane with such an insatiable need for the boy; something that relieved Severus greatly, for to think that he could be capable of such a thing had disturbed him very much indeed, and he was deeply ashamed. He would still take care of the boy who was now, after all, his responsibility, but that bone-aching sense of shame that he had been feeling had eased somewhat since the revelation. 

That Farid had knelt before him so sweetly and served him with a potion which had precipitated his own rape, made Severus' heart ache; but at least he knew that he had not hurt the boy whilst gripped in some strange unexplained madness which he might someday repeat. 

The alpha vampire had laughed at Severus’ indignation and told him that right enough, “It only take three fucks to claim a slave, but we Kazakhs always like to make sure! Three times three is better, my friend, no? I am quite fond of that little pet myself; I brought him here when he was quite small, and he stood in hall surrounded by vampires, wearing nothing but a large thin shirt, fit only for rubbish. Is much better naked, I think. But he was quite unafraid; he is only animal I have ever been tempted to turn. But we don’t turn Muggles, they too much trouble. If only he had a little magic, though.” He continued with what could have passed for regret, “He was getting too old for me. I like my Muggles fresher than him, unsullied, pure. 

“I found him when he was just little child; he was on a doorstep. It was freezing cold – February; his _family_ had left him there. I almost go and see them personally and tell them not way to treat such small animal, but I busy, so did not. I had been in England for just a few days. Good pickings, always, I find when I go there for night or two; the Muggles, they not care for their homeless. I have had many a good meal when I visit.”

He threw back his shaggy dark head and laughed just then, exposing his long neck and his wide mouth with its sharp, pointed incisors. These vampires were very different from the ones Severus had always known; they lived as they wished and nobody bothered them. Their society was strong, not like the shadowy, half apologetic clans in Britain.

“He was crying like little kitten; so, kind vampire that I am, I rescue him.” And then, fixing Severus with an icy stare, “Don’t doubt, my friend, that I did. He was so cold and bleeding much from where he had been beaten, such a small child too, so sad. So I took him and we put a glamour on him to hide his scars, they were many too for such a scrap; and of course we change the colour of his eyes. The other animals did not like his eyes - they think them the colour of death.”

But Severus had not really been listening at that point. He had been thinking of the small child, beaten and locked out from warmth and home, so that being snatched by vampires into a life of slavery might almost be considered a better fate.

But now Yusuf grabbed his arm and squeezed it hard.

“You look after him, he is good animal. I rather he go to you than get drained or sent to breeding pens, but if you hurt him, I know. 

“I call him ‘Farid.’ In your tongue it mean ‘precious,’ ‘unique.’ You make him happy or else I not happy.”

Severus had been astonished. What did this boy have that made a master vampire, known throughout Europe for his heartlessness against Muggles, defend him in such a way?

But looking at Farid sleeping, it did make sense really. Whatever glamour the boy wore, it did not take away from his innate beauty and he _was_ so very beautiful; the dark plaits spread out across the pillow on which he lay, and the dark lashes curled on his cheeks. He was cuddled up in a foetal position, which was not how he lay when he was with him. When Severus was beside him, his legs were open, his arms thrown back. Better to offer his master access, to whatever part of his body he might wish to touch. In this position he seemed, oddly, even more vulnerable, as if he were defending himself against the world.

Severus felt very tender toward the boy as he moved over to the bed to join him. Earlier, they had had the most amazing sex that Severus had ever had; he had come back to the bedchamber, pondering what Yusuf had told him about the boy. Half of him had been appalled; to own someone, to be able to do whatever he wished to a slave, who in turn had no recourse, no way of defending himself, was wrong. It was evil. It was what Voldemort wanted to do. He didn’t think it was even legal anymore in his world. But the bond was magical and, according to the master vampire, there was no way, save death or the boy being given or sold to someone else, to dissolve it.

But Severus wondered; maybe Farid could become an apprentice to him, or there might be some other way to change or transform the magic involved. Some way that was not so violent, so cruel as what he had done the night before. 

But part of him, quite a big part in fact, was secretly thrilled that the boy belonged to him; someone of his own at last, who was his forever, who could never leave or turn against him. That part wanted to defend his strange relationship with the boy against everyone who might wish to destroy it.

At first, when Yusuf had told him that Farid was his slave, he had been hurt, angry even, because he had assumed that the love he had seen shining in the boy’s eyes was because of the bond. Again, he had been laughed at by the vampire.

“No, English Wizard, the boy is under slavery bond, not love spell! If you see love then it is there, and make me think I right to give him to you. He good animal, have made many men happy. He will bring you joy, yes?” Severus, who had been sitting next to the master vampire at a long oak dinner table in the Great Hall of the castle, had lowered his hand to his slave, who was curled naked on the floor beside him, and gently stroked his head. He vowed to himself that he would look after Farid, and protect him, and not let anyone hurt him or take him away from him, ever.

Later, Farid had followed him back to his room. He had been totally unconcerned by his nakedness and had seemed unaware of the jingling noise that the myriad of little ornaments twined in his hair made with every step he walked. Severus turned and grabbed him gently, swinging him into his arms before lowering him on to the large silken bed. Farid just lay there with his legs spread open and his dark eyes lowered, letting his master look his fill. 

Severus just stood there for a while, watching the boy’s chest rise and fall and seeing him trembling a little bit, as he no doubt wondered what was to happen now. He took both of the boy’s hands in his larger one and fastened the cuffs that he wore to the rings embedded in the headboard. Farid had begun to breathe more rapidly, yet didn’t struggle; he was obviously anxious, so Severus gently placed a finger on Farid’s lips and shushed him as he had the night before.

“Hush, sweet boy,” he said and he started to stroke and caress his slave, luxuriating in the feel of that silken skin, wanting to lick it, to nibble it. He knelt over the boy now, occupying himself with darting his tongue in and out of Farid’s neat little belly button. He smiled to himself as the boy started to whimper softly and wriggle just a tiny bit, not too much though, because Severus straddled his legs and held him firmly in place.

But then he reached for the boy’s cock to find that it lay limp and unresponsive, nestled in his curls.

“Farid,” he asked, “what is wrong?”

The boy seemed hardly to be listening, and looked up at his master with pleasure filled, unfocused eyes, “Masteerr?” he asked in a soft tone.

“You are not hard, Farid. What is wrong, do you not like this?” 

“Masteerr, jes like, jes like much.”

“Then why not hard?” Severus asked. The boy, though, stared at his master in confusion, not knowing what Severus wanted.

So Severus reached up and released one of the boy’s hands though still keeping the wrist firmly grasped and took it down to his own stiff member.

“Master hard!” he growled.

Then he moved it to Farid’s soft organ, ignoring the flinch that Farid gave when he touched his own penis. They would deal with that later, he told himself.

“Farid not hard.”

And then once again, “Master hard, Farid not hard.”

And Farid understood.

“Masteerr must tell. Masteerr must tell Farid get _charrd._ Farid must not touch, Farid touch bad, that for Masteerr.”

It was just about the longest thing that Severus had ever heard the boy say. He had to tell him to find pleasure in the sexual act? He had to tell him to get hard? Merlin, he probably had to tell him to come as well! The boy had such sensuality that he had obviously been enjoying what Severus had been doing to him, at least if the little moans and sighs had been anything to go by. But he was a slave; he was there for someone else’s pleasure, and he was not to find pleasure in his own sex unless he was told. Severus planned to change that. Right now, he wanted this boy to feel bliss like he never had before. So after placing a tender kiss on the palm of Farid’s hand, he refastened the cuff to the headboard and resumed his exploration of the boy’s body. He took hold of Farid’s cock, giving it a firm squeeze, and, with a mouth full of the nipple ring on which he was tugging gently, he said, “Hard Farid, hard for Master.” He was very gratified to find the boy’s cock immediately swelling with blood until it stood proud against Severus’ leg.

Severus smiled in a feral way and said in a low voice, “Good boy Farid!”

Severus had licked and sucked and nibbled his way up and down Farid several times. He had tugged on his nipple rings, licking and kissing around them, nibbled him from his ears down to his toes then finally nuzzled up to the boy’s cock. Farid moaned and whimpered as Severus blew gently on the boy’s balls and took him in his mouth. Farid gasped and began muttering in Kazakh as he was gently sucked and worried by the tongue of his master. Severus didn’t know what he was saying, but he loved the rich tones of the boy’s accent and the way he rolled his Rs. 

“English, Farid,” he said, “English.”

And ever obedient, the slave replied as best he could, “Jes, ohohohoh Masteerr, emec, oh Masteer, Maste…..”

And Severus smiled to himself as he realised that the boy was not about to make sense in any language right at that moment - he was lost in the pleasure that Severus was giving him. He raised the slave so that his bottom was resting on some pillows and ran his hands under the boy’s smooth thighs. Caressing gently, he lubricated one finger and inserted it into the boy’s anus. Severus did not want to hurt him again, but he wanted to come inside his slave. Farid winced a little bit but did not protest, and Severus inserted two, then three fingers into the tight space. The thought that Farid would not have been able to stop him even if he had tried to, was ruthlessly squashed by Severus. Farid was _his,_ and he would take him if he wanted him, whenever he wanted him. And he wanted him now. 

He placed the tip of his cock against the slave’s carefully slicked anus and pushed, gently but firmly, past the outer ring of muscle until he was deep inside him. Farid screamed. He moved, in and out, in and out, while the slave muttered incoherently. Severus kept up an even pace and rhythm brushing regularly against the man’s prostate, until he could not hold back any more, not against the hot tightness of his slave. He came so hard that it was almost painful, shuddering and shouting. He had just enough presence of mind to lean forward and whisper to the boy lying beneath him.

“Master has come, slave. You come, too. Now.” Farid obviously understood him well enough that time; if not the words, then definitely the meaning because, like the good little slave he was, he came on command, just like Severus wanted him to.

Afterwards, they bathed. Severus had tenderly dried Farid with a warm fluffy towel and carried him back to the bed, laying him down softly.

“Vateerr? Masteerr, please?” Farid croaked, his eyes anxious. He was obviously unsure about asking, but he must have been desperate. Severus felt overcome with guilt because the boy had not drank or eaten all day. He had been with Severus, and Severus had not thought of Farid’s needs. He fetched a glass of water and stroked the boy’s cheek as he thirstily gobbled it down. Once Farid had finished, he turned to lay the glass aside preparing to call someone to bring food for the boy; but by the time he had turned back, Farid was asleep, worn out by his body’s exertions.

So Severus watched.

Later, when he made his way over to the bed, he snuggled down beside his slave, spooning against him. Farid murmured in slumber, uncurled in case his body was needed by his master, but nevertheless slept on.


	4. Chapter Four

  
Author's notes: Harry Potter has been missing since childhood, Voldemort is on the rise again, a young Tom Riddle was resurrected when the Chamber of Secrets was opened and a child died, the prophecy says that only The Chosen One can defeat him, but where is he?......  


* * *

Chapter Four

When morning came, Farid woke to having his mouth plundered by his master. Severus smiled at him, “Good morning, little one,” he purred. “How are you today?”

“Masteer, may thees slave seerrve dyou?” Farid asked sleepily.

“Hhhmmmm,” said Severus, kissing him harder and letting his hand trail down towards Farid’s cock. He was stopped in his exploration by a loud gurgling noise. He was puzzled for a second and then realised that it was Farid’s stomach rumbling. Of course - the poor boy had had nothing to eat since the day before last; he had to be ravenous by now. Severus looked at the man-child to say something and saw that Farid was blushing, furiously, and he threw back his head and laughed out loud.

“I sorry, Masteerr. I bad slave,” Farid said sadly, lowering his eyes, but Severus just kissed him again.

“No Farid, good slave.” And then, pointing to himself, “I am a bad master.”

“Emec, no, no, Master good,” Farid still had a worried look on his face. His eyes widened as he quickly realised that he had just disagreed with the man who owned him body and soul, and he felt a little bit panicked. His master had seen his agitation and gently put a finger to Farid’s lips, and Farid knew then that it was going to be okay, that his master was not cross.

“Let’s eat, little one. I have breakfast all set out for us.”

Farid thought he understood a bit more than he had the day before; some words seeming quite familiar to him. He didn’t really remember what his life had been like before he came here, but he knew that this place was better. He got fucked here - and had for a long time - but he was fed and not beaten very often and nobody hated him. But when he thought back to before Master Yusuf rescued him, he shuddered. He remembered a red-faced man who shouted at him, and a big boy who laughed when he was in pain; they both hit him and broke his bones and called him ‘freak.’

They had hated his magic, and they tried to make it go away by beating and torturing it out of him, dousing him in freezing water, burning him with hot things, poking other things inside him and washing him with bleach. He had been frightened of his magic for a long time and had prayed for it to go away, so that he would be normal, and not be a freak, and have his family love him. But his magic had not gone; so he had hidden it, and he still hid it, even from his masters here. He knew that, if they were to find out, they would turn him, and Farid did not want to be turned; he did not want to be a monster like them.

They were often kinder to Farid than the fat man had been, but they still hurt people and killed them, and Farid did not want to do that. Master Yusuf admired power and Farid knew that he had such power - he just did not know what to do with it, how to channel it. Here he had learned that magic was not bad; what was bad, was _how_ it was used, and he did not want his power used to make more slaves like him. 

But now he had a new master, and Farid would have to think again. He should tell this master, but he could not divulge it just yet; he knew that if he told Master here, then Yusuf would take him back, and Master would be in danger. Since he had met this man, Farid would rather die than see him hurt or go back to how it had been before. This master would help him, would show him what to do, because sometimes Farid burned with the raw energy pumping through him, and it scared him.

He shuddered violently at the thought of his power running out of control, but Master saw him and pulled him into a hug. Farid wanted to cry, and that was something he had not done in a very long time; this man cared about him, and Farid would do anything to please him. So he smiled and looked up at Master in his gentle way and allowed himself to be led over to a low table that overlooked the mountains and lakes that surrounded them.

There were two chairs at the table and Farid wondered who would be joining them as he knelt down at his master’s feet, but Master caught his upper arms as he lowered himself down.

“No, Farid,” he said. "In the main part of the castle, when the others are there, you will have to do this. But you are not a dog, and here in our quarters you will feed yourself and sit on a chair.”

Farid heard Master’s words but did not really understand them, and he did not know what to do. Even in the other place, when he had a name that he could not quite remember, he had not been allowed on the furniture. He had only ever been allowed on a bed since he had come here; and even then only when he was being fucked or if someone wanted a warm body around for a while.

His eyes widened and his teeth started once again to worry his lip. Master smiled, stroked Farid’s hair, and gently led him to a carved wooden seat with a soft red cushion. Still gripping his arms, he pushed Farid gently until he was sitting. Farid gasped with shock. 

It was so comfortable, especially on his sore arse. Farid did not know that there were things as comfortable as this _chair_ was in all the world; and his master wanted him to sit on it while he sat on his own chair?

Then Farid realised that Master was hiding things too. Maybe he would not be cross with him when he found out about the magic; Master was different from the vampire clan and from the fat man with the red face. Never, in all his life that Farid could remember, had he been allowed to sit in something so magnificent; then to make things even more wonderful, Master let him feed himself cold juice, and hot coffee and warm creamy porridge, and he even let him hold a spoon! 

The juice was wonderful, sweet and cold; Farid had only ever had water to drink before now, but this was nectar. Watching Master pour him a coffee, Farid struggled to make sense of what was being said, “I’ll add some cream and sugar for you because you will not be ready to drink it black and bitter as I do.” Taking the cup as Master handed it to him, he curled his hands around it and tentatively he sipped at the drink; his eyes wide as the thick velvety liquid flowed down his throat, and the taste! Farid was so surprised by its warmth, its smoothness that he almost choked. 

Then carefully putting down the cup, he picked up the little silver spoon, and dipped it into the creamy sweet oatmeal in front of him. It was peppered with berries and honey, and he slowly, carefully at first, raised the bowl of the implement to his lips and tasted the porridge. This time he closed his eyes because _he_ was doing this; _he_ was feeding himself, and not from some chunky wooden bowl from which you had to drink cold stew, nor titbits dropped from an owner’s hand. This was more freedom than Farid could ever remember having, and he could not stop himself any longer: fat tears flowed unchecked down his smooth cheeks because he had never felt so cherished or been so happy in his life.

Last night when Master had made love to him, he had felt more pleasure than he had ever thought possible. But this, _this_ was unimaginable luxury to Farid.

And now his master was holding him again, so tenderly, as if he might break, and Farid started to sob like his heart would rend in two. He had so much all of a sudden and did not know what to do with such riches and such kindness. 

Master looked at him with worried black eyes, and Farid knew that some how he would have to tell him that he had not gone mad, that he was alright and was crying with happiness. He thought hard, back to his childhood to those words of English that he vaguely recalled, and said, “Sank dyou, Masteerr, Farid so happy, sank dyou.” Then, frowning hard to remember words that had only ever been said to the big boy that hit him, but that he had once craved to hear, “I love you, Masteerr.”

And then, screwing all his courage up tight, he closed his eyes, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his master’s lips. He felt like he might be sick, like the bottom might drop out of his world - such presumption from a mere slave. For a second, Master did not respond. Farid knew that he had gone too far, presumed too much, and that he would be turned away or sold. But all at once, Master grabbed him tight and kissed him back, more fiercely and more passionately than he had ever been kissed before. And Farid knew he was safe at last.


	5. Chapter Five

Warning this chapter contains scenes which might disturb some people. Non-con and rough sex. - if this bothers you, please don't read it.

 

Chapter Five

 

Severus stayed with the clan for two more days. This was longer than he had planned, and he still wanted to leave before the weekend. It was almost as though having Farid as a slave made him an honorary member of the group. And Severus, privately, did not consider it much of an honour. The longer he spent with the clan, the more repelled he was with some of their customs, especially the way they treated their slaves. 

And yet, despite his avowed distaste, Severus knew that once he returned to Hogwarts, Farid would no longer be able to follow him everywhere, naked and available; he would not be able to ram his cock inside him or come into his mouth and be sucked to completion whenever he wished. He was becoming enthralled by the pleasure of ownership, intoxicated by the power he held over another human being - a pliant, well-trained and, apparently willing, human being. Whether or not he wished to claim this darker side of himself, Severus now knew that he indeed had one.

Yusuf had insisted on spending yesterday morning revealing to Severus how to get the best out of his slave, showing him proudly how well their animals were trained. That morning was one that Severus would long remember with horror, regret and a loathsome thrill of pleasure.

He was given a tour round the “kennels” where the slaves were kept, and it was a sight that, even years afterwards, would be engraved on his soul. The place was dull grey stone, and it was cold, so cold. One room was lined with cages that, while empty now, had obviously been used frequently in the past. Now that the vampires bred their own muggles, they did not go searching much anymore in the local villages; they did not have to “break the slaves in” as they had been trained to serve their demanding masters from birth. 

Farid was one of the last free humans that had ever been captured. Severus was proudly shown the cage that Farid had spent a lot of his time in before, as Yusuf told him, he was broken to the whip. The cage was bare, bleak. Iron bars, even on the floor, ensured that it could be hosed clean, because sometimes slaves spent weeks in them only being taken out to be fucked or beaten. Farid, Yusuf remembered fondly, had taken several months to break down in spirit, but they had done it in the end, and look what a good slave he was now.

Farid had followed them as he must, but his terror of the benighted place was evident to Severus in every line of his body; he kept his eyes directed firmly on the floor and did not even take the tiny peeks at the world that Severus had become accustomed to seeing from his inquisitive boy. The thought of the days, the weeks, that this boy had spent here, frightened and alone, chilled Severus to the very core of his heart.

The room that adjoined the kennels was obviously used for punishment and was filled with racks crammed with whips and paddles, plugs and chains. First, Yusuf called Farid forward using a series of signals, which he encouraged Severus to learn. He took the boy through a number of learned positions: full submission, half kneel, sitting kneel. On and on it went, each pose was designed to expose different parts of Farid’s anatomy for his Master’s pleasure and the boy performed each flawlessly, time and time again, as the master vampire showed off his skills to Severus. 

Then Yusuf walked over to one bench and spoke in rapid Kazakh to Farid, who immediately fell to his knees, crawled over to it and clambered up on to the lower step. He obviously knew this object well, as he reached over the middle part, stretching his hands up until his cuffs were parallel with the bar on the back of the frame; it was a big stretch for Farid: his arms and back were pulled taught and his arse exposed. 

Yusuf bent over then and secured Farid’s wrists to the top bar and his ankles to the straps embedded in the bench on which he was kneeling, cruelly spreading his legs wide and stretching Farid’s body as tight as a bow. Once the slave was secure, he ran a hand over the tight little arse and squeezed, whispering a command under his breath, so that Farid’s cock engorged and stood erect, thick and full, pressed against the bench. 

“What do you think you are doing?” Severus demanded as his slave waited trapped and prepared for whatever was to come next.

“I am showing you how to keep slave in order,” Yusuf said coldly. He turned his ice blue eyes on Severus then said, “You have had him four days already, and his arse is not red; there no marks of any kind on him. If you do not beat him, mark him, then he will not know he belong to a strong master and will try to rebel.”

Then he smirked at Severus, "But I will let you chose the whip, just make it strong one." Severus was under no illusion that the master vampire was asserting his authority; he had given Farid to Severus, but he wanted Severus to know that he had authority over him, as well. The only reason that he had not been turned on his first day amongst them, he thought, was that this vampire had given his word to Dumbledore, and he liked to think of himself as an honourable man. Then Severus had helped him when he was in agony after being trapped outside at dawn. It had only been for a few seconds, but that had been enough to blister him horribly, and Severus had soothed his pain. So for that, for services rendered, Severus had his gratitude.

But Yusuf was about to inflict pain on what belonged to him, and Severus was deeply unhappy. However, he had survived for as long as he had amongst Voldemort’s minions, by being good at hiding his distaste, and he was not about to risk his and Farid’s safety by disagreeing with an alpha vampire, keen to assert his authority. So he formed his features in to a mask of polite interest and coolly drawled to the vampire as he strolled over to a particularly nasty looking collection.

“And which implement would you suggest we use, Yusuf?” Severus inquired, running a long-fingered hand along the assembled instruments of torture.

Yusuf smiled, “I suggest the whip on the end. It easy to wield, mark beautifully and hurt like fucking hell.” And, once again, he threw back his head and laughed at his own wit.

Then he went to the selection of butt plugs that were invitingly displayed nearby. Choosing a thick red one, he spread it with lubricant and, without any further preparation, screwed it firmly into the whimpering boy’s hole, saying as he did so, “This make him open for your pleasure later. No need to prepare, hmm?”

Severus took the item that Yusuf had suggested and brought it over to the vampire, presenting it to him handle first.

Yusuf smiled more widely. “This animal great fun to whip; he try not to cry out, so it challenge to make him. And he always howl and beg me to stop before I finish.”

With that, he lifted the hand that held the whip and brought it down on the boy tied with such force that the air sang with the noise of it, and a huge red welt blossomed on Farid’s backside. True to Yusuf’s assertion, Farid made not a sound and it took three more thwacks before he even grunted. The vampire was enjoying himself now, and he struck Farid harder and harder and faster and faster and Severus was disturbed to find his cock growing harder too, as the grunts became whimpers and the whimpers became pleas. After twenty or so, Farid was weeping and begging.

He was unable to squirm, unable to even move his arse, as he was all but skinned by the brutal whip being used to viciously beat him. Finally, at twenty five, when the slave was screaming for mercy, Yusuf stopped and smiled at Severus once again, indicating the tell tale hardness in Severus’s trousers. “I see this you do enjoy. If you take him now, his arse all hot and the pleasure of it, English Wizard, having a well whipped trembling slave beneath your cock is bliss like nothing else.” And he licked the blood coated whip with evident pleasure, before dropping it casually to the floor. He leaned forward, only to place a jar of lubricant into Severus’ hand, before turning and swiftly leaving the room.

Severus told himself afterwards that he did what he did next to accede to Yusuf’s demands. But the truth was that he was incredibly turned on; Farid’s arse was red and bleeding as he wept softly and moaned to himself, maintaining his erection throughout the ordeal. Severus just wanted to be inside him there and then; he quickly removed the plug and tossed it aside, determined to replace it with his own aching sex. He undid his trousers, slathered his penis and placed the weeping cock at Farid’s entrance. Unable to contain himself any longer, with one thrust he was buried deep inside the slave, who was indeed trembling just as Yusuf had promised. When Severus had entered him, he screamed again, and as Severus pounded into him, he continued to cry out and beg for mercy

His backside and thighs were red and hot, and Severus could not help touching them, running his fingers along the raised welts, fascinated by the pattern that Yusuf had created.

He could feel the pressure building rapidly in his cock and was soon crying out himself at the pleasure of it. The blood was pumping in his head, and he felt that he would explode. With one final cry he came, shuddering, buried deep inside his slave. Breathing deeply from the exertion of it all, he leaned forward and whispered to Farid, “Come my own. Come for Master. Now.” And well trained as he was, Farid came once again on his master’s command.

When Severus untied him, Farid’s legs were shaking too much for him to be able to stand, never mind walk, so Severus swept him up into his strong arms and carried the sobbing, shivering boy to his chamber. As he walked, members of the clan smiled and clapped him on the back, congratulating him on bringing about such compliance in his slave. Farid buried his head against his master’s neck, making his shirt all wet with his tears.

Severus did not know what to feel. As he gently washed his slave in the large bath, he soothed his sobs and dried his tears with one of the soft fluffy towels that were always available. As he ate lunch, Farid knelt at his feet, his arse too sore for even the softest cushion. Because he was still trembling with shock, Severus fed him kindly from his own hand. The feeling of possession that had been nurtured in him grew ever stronger, as Farid looked at him with large puzzled eyes while he kissed away the remaining tears. Then he carried the boy to the bed and gently laid him on his front. He took out some salve that he had made from comfrey and scented with roses and rubbed it into the welts with tender ministrations, shushing Farid’s gasps of pain.

He climbed on the bed beside Farid and enfolded the boy’s naked form against his own clothed body. Careful not to let the boy’s sore arse touch the covers, even though they were silk, he soothed and shushed his slave. His mind was racing: how wrong it was to find such pleasure in another’s pain; how proud he was of Farid for taking such punishment; how gratified he was that the boy was still able to turn to him for comfort in such a sweet compliant way, even though he had caused him such hurt. Severus knew that if he did not leave soon, he would be lost, as he was becoming more and more drawn in to this world even as it repelled him. A few days more and Severus would never want to leave; a little longer here and he would be wielding the whip with the same harshness as Yusuf had done. 

Severus realised, all at once, that the clan did not force wizards to turn to them. Bit by bit, they sucked them into their culture until rape and torture and slavery seemed to be normality and could be justified and enjoyed. He had done that himself, after all, and not just once. After seeing the joy that the freedom of being able to feed himself had given Farid, he had taken it away. After allowing him to dine as an equal, he had reminded him of his inequality. And after promising himself that he would never hurt him again, he had stood by and watched him being savagely whipped and then taken great delight in fucking him as hard as he could. 

It was too enticing being in this place. Just a few steps more and Severus would be lost to the dark, and then Farid, his sweet, pliant boy, would be lost too. So, as Farid’s juddering breaths soothed to the even ones of sleep, he promised himself and his slave that tomorrow they would leave for home.


	6. Chapter Six

Farid was confused and a little bit frightened. The whipping earlier had been very savage, but he had had worse, albeit not for a while. What frightened him was his master’s reaction to his pain and Farid had been in pain. He knew that he had a very stubborn nature and that the vampires had taken an extraordinary long time to break him even though he had been a child. They took pride in his stubborness, boasted about it to visitors and demonstrated their mastery over him, just like Master Yusuf had today.

It was a game that they had between them, the alpha vampire and Farid, he would have Farid demonstrate the proscribed poses that a slave was always meant to adopt, punishing Farid if he was even a tiny bit out of proper position, Farid determined that he would be perfect so that there could be nothing to penalize him for and the punishment would have to be just for the master’s pleasure and not for correction. Then Yusuf would beat him, he would hold out before screaming and begging for as long as he could and Yusuf would not give up until _he_ gave in and he always gave in eventually usually the pain was just too much in the end. 

He had been fucked far more viciously too than he had been today and jeered at and laughed at, but right now he felt more hurt and vulnerable than he had in a long, long time. The vampires thought Farid broken, completely submissive, and in many ways he knew he was. They had control over every part of him, his body was not his own, he knew that they gave him pleasure and they gave him pain and nothing, nothing that he did or did not do had ever changed that. But he had always secreted away a tiny part of himself that no one had been able to reach.

Until now. 

Farid had never given his heart before, he had never fallen in love. Stupidly, foolishly he had been taken in by the kindness that Master had given him and imprinted like some baby duck on the English Wizard, and he was disgusted with himself. The first person in all his life that he could remember to show him any kindness had been the one to whom Farid had awarded his love and there was nothing he could do about it any longer what was done was done and it was too late to ever go back to how it was before, Farid submitting, giving in to whatever was done to him, but keeping his heart safe and protected.

Farid could not believe how stupid he had been, he had seen this many times in the past, wizards had come here, professed themselves horrified by the treatment of the slaves and ended up joining the ranks of the vampires before very long. Farid knew how seductive such power was as he had seen it corrupt many. He had hidden his own magic because he was aware that even in him there was a seam of darkness that could not be denied and he knew that if he were to be turned, if he were to lose his conscience and become as immoral as Yusuf was then there would be no hope for the world. So instead of inflicting pain, he received it instead.

But this wizard he had thought to be different. He had been kind and caring, outside of their room he had played the master and Farid had gone along happily with their game, but in here Farid had had more freedom than he had ever known, his master had been tender, playful. He had encouraged Farid to initiate things had kissed and caressed him had begun to teach him English words so that they could better communicate and made Farid feel that he was not a freak or an object but a human being capable of choices and of love.

When his master had fucked him so brutally, become so aroused by his pain, Farid had thought his heart would break in two, he had come as ordered, compliant as always but the orgasm had been agony, bitter and wrenched unwillingly from him and he had wanted his master to kill him then so that he would feel no more.

When Master had carried him back to the chamber he had not been able to help himself, he had turned to him for comfort because there had been no one else. And Master had been kind, he had bathed him and caressed him and shushed his tears, just like before. But then he had made him kneel to feed him, and fed him from his hand, and Farid had understood that the freedom that he had thought was his was an illusion, that could be taken away as easily as it had been given and that he had no more rights with this master than he had ever had, and the little delights that he had grown to love, to rely on could be taken away in the blink of an eye.

Fat tears squeezed themselves out from the corner of his eyes and a large prickly lump of anguish lodged itself in his throat and he almost lost himself to despair. But then he felt his master’s hand soothingly stroke his cheek, a long slim finger gently catch a tear and brush it away.

“Hush Farid,” his master was saying, “ Shush, shush my precious boy, I am so sorry, so sorry Farid for what I did to you. Please forgive me, please my sweet boy. Do you understand? Farid please understand.”

And Farid did. A day ago he would not have done, two days and he would have understood even less. But he knew his master was apologising. To him. And he did not know what to think any more.

But Master had buried his head in his hair and was sobbing, gently stroking him and caressing him and Farid thought that maybe, maybe his master was sorry, but he did not know what to do, what to say because never in all his life before had anyone ever apologised to Farid.

 

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The next morning they left. 

Snape removed them from that doomed place of cruelty and torture as fast as possible, as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. He had said goodbye to Yusuf as politely as he could manage to someone whose throat he wanted to tear out with his bare hands and he and Farid left.

They were walking and would be for some time, there was no way that they could apparate for at least a day or two as the castle and this part of the forest were under a dampening spell, and although he had his broom he could not use it as he was not sure how his Muggle slave would cope with such a magical object. They had rucksacks on their backs with all they would need for a few days, the load shared between them, magically lightened but still needing to be carried if they were to eat and have somewhere safe to sleep.

Now that they were leaving and the relief that he felt at getting away from the pernicious atmosphere of the vampire’s stronghold was beginning to dispel, the worries that he had suppressed were rising to the front of his mind. How would Farid deal with Hogwarts, would he even be able to see the castle school? How would Hogwarts cope with Farid? What would Dumbledore do? And most important of all, would Farid ever forgive him, how could he make things better between them after what he had done yesterday?

For Severus knew that he had indeed destroyed something precious, when he had carried Farid back to their room, when he had seen how distraught the boy had become, really looked at the scars the vampire had inflicted he suddenly realised that this was _real_ Farid was enslaved and had been for almost all of his life, he was a boy who had been horribly abused and who had clung to him as his salvation and Severus had turned his back on the boy and used him for his own gratification, just like everyone else.

Severus had played games as most people his age had. But they had been fun, consensual, using silk scarves and cuffs and the occasional paddle or crop, what had happened to Farid, what had been done to Farid was something much, much more serious, more severe than a game. It had been real slavery and the boy had truly had no rights, no recall and no hope of freedom, choice or active participation in the sexual acts that he was forced to endure. Farid had not chosen to submit; placing his needs and wants in the hands of a trusted lover. Farid had submitted because it was either that or die, unwanted, unmourned, an animal used only for sex

The guilt that Severus had experienced immediately after he had raped Farid was bad enough, but the regret that he had felt after that was far worse. Because although he still owned Farid’s body, he no longer seemed to have any claim on the boy’s soul. Farid was still compliant; willing to do whatever his master wanted, submissively, obediently, but that revelation of sprit that Severus had seen, the mischievousness, the flashes of joy. That had all gone. And Severus wanted it back; he suspected that he had broken something in Farid that no one had ever managed to touch before and Severus needed absolution and he needed to make it right.

He walked much faster than his boy, Farid had not been out of the castle for years and had been naked and unshod for all of that time, he followed his master now clad in Severus’ clothes which were far too big for him and which dwarfed his slender frame. The sleeves of Severus’ shirt were rolled up exposing the cuffs that the boy wore and they had cut several inches off the trousers so that Farid would not trip and then fixed them around his slender waist with string. He looked simply adorable and Severus wanted to crush him in his arms and kiss him senseless, but he would not let himself, not yet. 

The boots that Farid wore had been shrunk to fit, but still the boy stumbled a bit, obviously unused to footwear of any kind, never mind such clumpy, heavy objects as these. When Severus had put them on the slave his expression had been comical for a moment and then his “slave mask” had been firmly snapped into place and Severus had bitten back the teasing comment that had been on the tip of his tongue because he knew he could not abide to see that the easy relationship that he had taken for granted had gone, been squandered, destroyed.

So he watched the boy clambering over the rocks, loyally following his master, not knowing where he was going or what might happen to him and never once protesting or complaining, merely limping a little from where the boots must be bothering him. And he thought about what he would do to reach Farid, rebuild the rapport; show the boy that he was sorry.

They had been walking for several hours through forests carpeted with moss and scented with the pines that surrounded them and Severus knew it was time for a rest, he was far enough away from that awful place to do what he had planned to do last night when Farid had knelt beside him for the final dinner in the hall with the clan, still unable to sit because of his wounds, or when he _had_ sat gingerly, warily in his allotted chair for breakfast and fed himself, charily keeping most of his attention on his master instead of glorying in his food as he had done the day before.

As soon as the boy finally caught up with his master he looked at him questioningly for direction, and Severus gestured him to sit beside him, obviously still sore the boy began to lower himself to his knees, but Severus had chosen these moss covered rocks very carefully so that Farid’s posterior would be as comfortable as possible, and he patted the one beside him so that boy would know where he wanted him to be and said. “Sit here Farid, beside me.” And cautiously the boy did, his eyes flicked up to peek at his master and then lowered again, waiting to be told what to do next.

Severus took a deep breath, knowing that so much depended on what happened next and began to speak, slowly, carefully, enunciating each word that Farid might better understand.

“Farid you know that you are my slave?”

“Jes Masteerr?” Softly, questioningly, tremulously

“Yesterday I treated you very badly and I am very sorry for that. I hurt you and I am sorry, do you understand?”

“Jes Masteerr.”

“You are mine Farid, you belong to me. But you are not an animal.”

Severus checked to see the boy’s reaction but his head was down, his eyes still lowered and his breathing even, he was listening but he showed no reaction as yet.

“I forced myself on you Farid, and hurt you.”

A flicker from the boy at this statement, regret, sadness?

“I promise you I will never do that again.”

A quick sideways glance, puzzled, unsure.

“I do not need you to wear a collar to know you are mine.”

A soft touch to the back of the neck with his wand and a whispered Alohomora and the silver collar that Farid was wearing fell away

This time eyes widened in surprise met his for a second before dropping again swiftly, to stare at the collar that had landed in his lap.

Then Severus took each slender hand in his in turn before repeating the charm on the cuffs that Farid wore, then one more whispered spell and the hair that had been subdued into plaits and used to tie him down to torture him, wound itself free, sending silver bells and ornaments flying wide and tumbled instead in dark untamed waves over his shoulders and down his back.

Farid was breathing hard now, he lifted the collar in his hands and held it, unsure what to do next, and Severus dropped to the ground in front of his slave on his knees, and gently took those hands in his own. He stared into his slave’s eyes and said firmly, slowly

“We _will_ play games Farid, I want to enjoy your body, it is beautiful, but I want you to enjoy it too. 

"I will never beat you like Yusuf did, or hurt you like yesterday. 

"We will have a word, a special one that you can say if you want to stop when we play. Do you understand?”

A juddering breath this time and a trembling nod.

“We will not have sex again until you are better, until you decide. Until Farid say yes.”

Farid’s eyes had already widened in shock and now they filled with tears.

Slowly, tentatively he spoke

“We play game, jes, like before?

Severus nodded

“Masteerr no hurt Farid?”

Severus shook his head

“No...” and Farid held up the collar, not knowing the word in English

And Severus gently took it from him without speaking and hurled it away into the depth of the woods 

The boy watched it go, confused, uncertain, a sweet frown creasing his forehead and Severus watched him, drinking in his beauty, the life, the spirit that burned so strongly in this strange, strong, fragile boy. His hair danced around his face in a dark cloud, free, unconfined like he should be, like he should always have been. And he felt his heart clench inside him with a feeling that almost overwhelmed him because he had never felt it with such force in all his life before. A feeling that he knew to be love.

And then Severus did not think again for a very long time as his arms were filled, with a laughing, joyous boy who was covering him with kisses and showering him in tears.


	7. Chapter Seven

Much, much later Severus and Farid lay wrapped in each other’s arms Farid was completely naked again, Severus had almost torn his clothes away in his frantic desire and Farid had arched his back and melted into his master’s embrace, both were exhausted, from the walking, the worrying that they had done, each wrapped in their own thoughts, and now each of them was replete. The moss was that they lay on was like the softest feather mattress only they had loosened fragments of it with their tumbling and they were tangled in the mass that was Farid’s hair

Farid had lain awake for a long time afterwards, while his master slept, He still did not understand everything that his master had said, but the gist of it, what Master had been _trying_ to say, that, he had absorbed, when Master had removed the collar and cuffs, freed his hair, gone on his knees Farid had been absolutely astonished but then he had thrown the collar away, the mark of ownership that he had worn since he was a small child banished forever. And just for a moment, for the first time ever, Farid had truly felt free. 

He was far from the naïve, delicate little slave most of his masters assumed him to be, to survive the punishment he had had to cope with in his life, he had to be able to read behaviour, and try somehow to divert the worst of whatever torture was to be inflicted upon him, he did that by using his sweet, giving nature, and his immense inner strength to enthral those who had power over him, Farid had resilience, he had potency, he had an inner core as strong as steel. He had never had a master who had not been captivated by him. But that which had proved his salvation was also his curse, the very attributes that ensured that he was never hurt too much, damaged beyond repair also meant that he became addictive, just like he had to Yusuf, who gloried in any reaction he could wrench from the boy and whom had grown ever more cruel in his attempts to own that hidden part of him. Yet who in the end had balked at completely destroying him and had instead given him away to a man who could show him love. 

All those who had owned him or used him had gone to extremes to try to reach the unattainable within him that they could sense, the part that he kept hidden, that they strived unsuccessfully to reach. This master had been the first to ever even glimpse the depths of Farid’s nature that he had so carefully tried to protect, but this master Farid decided was worthy of the gift he had bestowed.

Even when he had despaired the day before, Farid had not been able to stop loving this man. He looked at his master now and saw the unfathomable black depths of his master’s eyes gazing back. Only this time Farid did not look away, or lower his gaze, he stared steadily back at his new owner, lovingly, unblinkingly and in the end his master looked away first.

“Shall we eat little one?” Severus asked gently rising somewhat stiffly from the nest that they had created.

Farid nodded, he leapt to his feet and started to bustle about, preparing the cold food that they had brought with them while his master sat and watched then they sat together side by side and ate the cold chicken and cherry tomatoes, whilst Severus tried to teach Farid more English, pointing to objects, to the food they were eating and saying the word once, twice before making Farid repeat it several times in his rich, rounded tones. Finally they were ready to move on, Farid once more clad in his master’s garments, shod in the heavy boots. 

The clothes felt strange against his skin, they itched, he had loved the feeling of the moss against him, his masters hands as they caressed him, but the scratchy cotton and wool irritated him and he would rather have left them off if he could. But Master had said that where they were going he would have to wear clothes and Farid thought that in order to escape the horror he had had to live through after the last few years it would not be too bad an exchange. And as the afternoon wore on, his master walked more slowly so that Farid could keep up and talked to him about Hogwarts and magic and what their new lives might be like.

Severus, could not imagine his life now without Farid in it, had not realised how lonely he had been without someone to love, he wanted to take him to Diagon Alley and buy him clothes, to stand beside him in his lab and talk while Farid helped him chop up potion ingredients, to sit beside him in his study at night and have him listen to his worries and dreams.

He wondered what Farid would look like when he was fully-grown, because although the boy was eighteen he looked much younger than that. Yusuf had told him that that was because he belonged to a vampire, he had been given several tastes of his master’s blood. Not enough to turn him but enough to slow the aging process, enough to give him the strength to survive the demanding wants of vampires. Farid had been fed blood several times a year, and this had kept him small, arrested his physical development and accounted for the fact that he remained on the brink of manhood long after he should be fully grown. Now that he belonged t Severus and had stopped receiving his monthly dose of vampire blood Farid would continue soon to grow in a normal way and Severus would be the one who would have the pleasure of seeing his boy grow to adulthood. 

The sun began to set now somewhere beyond their view and the sky grew pink, Severus decided that it was time to stop and set up camp for the night. It was late August and the nights were warm, so Severus had not bothered to bring a tent, instead he had a sleeping bag, which he would open out for him and Farid to share. He sent the boy to gather firewood whilst he unpacked and together, companionably he and Farid set up their camp for the evening. The sun was setting fast and filling the clearing in which they were camping with a flood of red light. Against this background the boy looked even more beautiful with the dark hair which framed his face dancing with auburn highlights and his eyes darkened by the advancing evening sparkling in the firelight with a hint of green.

Severus idly wondered where Farid had learned to cook, for his was at this moment chopping ingredients and adding them to the stew he was preparing, he hummed as he worked, a song unfamiliar to Severus, but still charming. Severus relaxed, he decided that he would take whatever was coming with this boy by his side, to support him, to care for him, and whistling to himself under his breath he started to bustle about too, preparing the camp for sleep.

Later after they had shared the delicious stew, Farid set to washing up and clearing away and Severus, unused to being cared for was delighted to let him. The day had been a good one he decided. Farid had forgiven him, and Severus would never take such a risk with his slave again. From now on he would love him, look after him and protect him and revel in the fact that Farid would care for him in return.

It had grown really dark, now and somewhere in the distance Severus could hear the hooting of owls. Soon he and Farid would be cuddled in his sleeping bag and Severus found that he thrilled in the thought of sleeping out here in the open with a naked boy wrapped around him. He thought he would love to keep Farid naked if he could, but he knew that was not possible, not at Hogwarts, so he would take every opportunity to enjoy the boy’s glorious body before they got back. He did not think the boy would mind too much, he obviously felt restricted by the clothing he was wearing and every so often he would frown at them or scratch himself where the garments itched. Severus became quite aroused by the thought of how the moonlight that was currently flooding the clearing in which they were preparing for bed would look against his slave’s naked body. Severus glanced up at the stars again shining brightly here without the muggle light pollution that prevented them being seen clearly in so many places in the British Isles. Then he glanced at the full, pregnant moon, which seemed surrounded by a magical glow and seemed so close tonight.

Severus froze. 

The words that Yusuf had spoken came back to him clearly now. 

“It best to wait one more night, English Wizard, not safe tonight.”

But Severus had known that one more night might have been one night too many for him had Farid and he stayed at the castle. He had believed that he had had no option, and was not prepared to listen to any more advice from the monstrous Yusuf, but he had made the wrong decision, and maybe condemned them to death, or worse. He should have listened, he should have stayed, they could have hidden in their room, stayed away from the others. In his haste to get away Severus had forgotten that tonight, tonight, the moon was full.

In the distance, some way away from them Severus heard a howl, long and loud, answered instantaneously by another and then a third. He sprang into action shouting to Farid to help him he started to pile leaves on the fire to dampen it and shoving things in one of the rucksacks, he told Farid to remove his boots knowing the boy would be faster without them, tying the laces together and then flinging them over the pack that he hauled onto his own shoulders, then grabbing his slave by the hand Severus turned in the opposite direction from the voices he had heard.

Together they ran, ran for their lives, Severus and his boy, Severus’ heart was pounding in his chest the blood pumping in his ears as he desperately tried to get them to safety, they could not apparate, the broom was not an option, the only choice they had, the only chance was to run. So run they did as quietly as they could through the trees which had earlier seemed to protect and now served only to imprison them.

After ten minutes of frantic flight Severus could not run anymore and Farid was panting heavily too so they stopped, just for a moment, until they could catch their breath, Severus prayed, hoped that they had done enough and outrun the pack that he had heard, he bent over placing his hands on his knees gathering his energy he felt Farid’s slender hand touch him gently in the small of his back and stood tall to see the boy staring around him with a fearful look on his face. There in the bushes and all about them, glittering untamed in the undergrowth were about twenty pairs of yellow eyes. And Severus realised that it was already too late and there was no hope for salvation, werewolves surrounded them.


	8. Chapter Eight

Severus prepared to die. He knew that the werewolves gathering around them now would not be interested in him; he was older, ugly and a singularly unattractive prospect. But Farid, Farid on the other hand was a very delectable morsel. Severus knew that he would die to protect his slave, but he also knew that with the odds so stacked against them even his death would not be enough.

He removed the rucksack that he had been carrying and dropped it to the ground beside him then he gently shoved his boy behind him, needing to feel him close and preparing to fight the coming onslaught he drew his wand. He would kill as many of them as he could and then he would turn the wand on Farid, a quick Avada Kedavra and Farid would know no more. There would be no time for him to do the same for himself and Severus would be torn to pieces but he would endure such a dreadful death if it were the only way to protect his beloved slave. 

The werewolves were coming ever closer moving forward through the bushes around them, muscles rippling under distorted skin, growling, salivating at the prospect of this unexpected meal. They were horrifying. Severus had had a fear of werewolves ever since school when he had almost died at the teeth of Remus Lupin, set up for disaster by that vicious bully Sirius Black. It was therefore ironic, that after finally finding someone he cared about after all these years, he was to die at the claws and teeth of the beasts that he loathed above all others. 

One of the werewolves drew back his lips in a hideous snarl and prepared to charge, then at once all of them were bounding from the bushes ready to kill, to rip, to destroy and Severus braced himself for the unimaginable agony that was to come.

But instead they hit some sort of barrier, like bouncing off glass and were thrown clear unable to reach the two men who stood defenceless before them. 

Severus was astonished, for at about a ten-foot radius, surrounding them on all sides there was some sort of shield. When the werewolves had rushed forward he had seen a flash of blue as they were repelled, and now that he knew that it was there he could see it gleaming occasionally in the moonlight. An impenetrable barrier, almost as if they were in the centre of a giant snow globe which, strong and unbreakable, surrounded them. 

They kept trying though, they were throwing themselves at it clawing at it frantically, snarling, whining like beaten dogs determined to reach their prey on the other side. Severus turned to Farid, to see how his slave was reacting, but Farid stood rigidly, head lowered eyes tight shut, fists clenched, his hair swirling around him almost as if being blown by a gentle breeze, but there was no wind at all in this forest tonight, and the breeze was a magical one. Somehow the shield was being generated, created by Farid. 

The boy was no Muggle Severus realised, in wonder, in fact he had to be the most powerful wizard who ever lived because what he was doing could not happen, magical shields stopped only magic, nothing else. This boy, this child had wandlessly conjured a barrier that was protecting them from the werewolves, and that was nothing less than impossible. 

Severus was stunned, unable to move, unable to react, until Farid lifted his head and looked at his master directly eye to eye. His teeth were clenched and he was starting to tremble with the sheer effort of what he was doing.

“Please, Master, cannot……it churt…must stop…please”

The trembling was growing worse and Severus knew he had to act quickly. He grabbed the rucksack and tipped it upside down, finding the broom buried at the bottom of it. He waved his wand and rapidly unshrunk it thrusting out his right hand he said clearly and distinctly “up.” It leapt from the forest floor straight into Severus’ hand and Severus quickly scrambled astride it, grabbing Farid to him he angled the front of the broom at the clear summer sky above them. Holding his slave tight he kicked off from the ground as just as Farid’s trembling grew out of control and his eyes closed as he lost conciousness and the barrier dissolved, but he and the boy were out of reach of the beasts below and they soared to safety and the moon and stars above.

 

******************

 

They had flown for at least an hour before Severus spotted the lights of a village below them, and he was almost overcome by a feeling of relief. Farid was not really very heavy, but he was still unconscious so he had been a dead weight for Severus to carry. So Severus was hugely relived to be able to set the broom down at the outskirts of the village, shrink it and place it in his pocket and carry the still unconscious boy toward the inn that he had noticed close by.

Up close the inn seemed held together by no more than good luck. The roof looked ready to fall in and the windows and doors were all crooked and misshapen, it was the most tumbledown building that Severus had ever seen, but it was also obviously magical, a muggle construction like this would have succumbed to gravity years before. He carried Farid inside to the fug of candlelight and chatter waiting within and as soon as he entered, everything stopped. All the occupants of the bar were staring hard at him, and a ramshackle collection they were, twisted hags. Wizened old witches and wizards and maybe even in the darkest corner a vampire or two and Severus said just one word that he hoped these Kazakhs would understand. “Werewolves.”

Farid still slept on and Severus suspected that he had a severe case of magical exhaustion. His breathing was laboured and his eyelids flickered with the dreams that were flitting behind them, the boy was whimpering now under his breath, shivering although the night was warm. But Severus sat beside him and soothed his forehead to chase away the dreams occasionally humming under his breath, songs that he had been sung as a child. He sat up thinking that whole night long, about what had happened and what it might mean and what on earth he was going to say to Albus.

“Hi Albus, this is Farid. He’s just a little something I seemed to have picked up in the forests of Kazakhstan. He happens to be the most magically powerful child I have ever seen, the most magically powerful anything come to that. Oh and did I mention that he is my slave?” Severus shivered and looked down, in the dawn light he saw that the boy was awake and that he was gazing back at Severus in confusion.

“Masteer, may thees slave seerrve dyou?” He asked, obviously unsure of where he was or what had happened,

But Severus gently placed his finger on Farid’s lips in the gesture he knew that Farid had come to trust, “Hush sweetheart,” he said, “it is morning and we are safe. We got away from the werewolves thanks to you, but I think you have a little something that you forgot to tell me, hhmmm?”

Farid blushed scarlet, to the tips of his toes, causing Severus to chuckle softly and place a tender kiss on Farid’s nose.

Soon after they were sitting together with Severus propped up against the pillows holding Farid in a loving embrace, and the boy was talking, stumbling over the unfamiliar English words that he was using, telling his master everything.

“My Oncle, che chate majik, chate it much, chate me much, beat me much. When Masteerr Vampirre come and take me, I think majek bad. But soon I see lot peoples chave majek, but Farid majek much strong. Masteerr Vampirre vant strong majek to churt peoples and Farid could not allow, so che chid it, chid majek and vould tell this Masteerr…..” He stopped, unable to go on, it had taken a lot of work for Farid to come up with such a long sentence but he did not seem able to finish the story.

So Severus finished it for him. “You were going to tell me and then I raped you, I hurt you Farid, and you did not know what to do, and when you forgave me, there was not time because the werewolves came.”

Farid was staring down at his hands, which he held clasped in his lap he nodded sadly.

“Jes, Master,”

“Farid,” Severus said, "look at me." He turned the boy so that they were face to face and placed a hand beneath his chin, lifting it so that Farid’s head was tilted up. Slowly those glorious eyes met his and Severus saw that they were filled with tears.

“I am so proud of you,” he said, “so proud that you took such punishment, such torture as you have had to endure and yet you did not break. You let them hurt you, rape you when you could have stopped it, but at, you are right, a dreadful risk to the world. You are very powerful Farid, perhaps the most powerful wizard that I have ever seen, and I glory in your magic and your power. I will help you, train you, nurture you and love you, I am yours Farid as much as you are mine,”

But Farid looked up at him with puzzlement in his eyes, Severus had said too much, too quickly and Farid did not understand. So Severus kissed him again and said instead.

“Good boy Farid, Farid did good,” and Farid flung himself into his master’s arms and snuggled against him, and Severus found himself growing hard against the boy’s thigh. But just then there was a knock at the door, which was swiftly opened by one of the hags from the night before. She took in the sight before her on the bed, Farid sitting naked on his master’s lap and pursed her lips with disapproval.

“Jour Breakfast Sirr,” she said in a cool tone, glaring at Severus and placing a heavily laden tray on the table beside the bed.

“Thank you,” he said, standing to give her a coin. She looked at the hand that held the money contemptuously and her face was twisted into a disapproving scowl, then she waved her hand dismissing him and left the room as quickly as she could.

Severus sighed, he realised that he would have to get used to such treatment, or else behave very differently around Farid in public. The trouble was that the boy looked so young which made Severus into some evil corrupter of children rather than the dashing saviour he fancied himself to be. He picked up the tray and saw to his dismay two bowls of steaming porridge, coffee and soft sweet rolls and jam. He sighed quietly even as Farid tucked in to the meal with gusto. He disliked porridge, always had. He enjoyed the way that his slave got such pleasure from the dreadful gloopy stuff, but could not see any attraction in it himself. But Farid was gulping it down with huge pleasure evident with every mouthful that he took, finishing his bowl in moments.

Scraping the spoon along the bottom of the bowl, checking for any remainder in the obviously very empty vessel, he looked up to see his master staring at him.

“Masteerr no hungry?” he asked questioningly 

And Severus smiled, “I don’t like porridge Farid,” he said and Farid smiled with that wicked green gleam in his eyes and said teasingly

“Farid help Master eat his porridge?”

“I don’t thi…” Severus began, but Farid had taken up his master’s spoon laden with porridge and started to trickle it all over his chest. The tray was gone all of a sudden, and Severus realised that Farid must have moved it magically. But he was not really in any state to investigate at that moment because Farid was laying back down, dribbling the creamy concoction on his torso as he reclined and Severus couldn’t help himself he followed the trails that the boy was drawing upon his body with his tongue.

Later they lay there, knowing that very soon they would have to get up and face the world. Today Severus would take Farid back to England, do a little shopping in Diagon Ally and then return to Hogwarts. He would have to teach Farid not to be so affectionate in public, would have to make him wear clothes, teach him better English, prepare him for a very different world.

Farid had no shame in what he was, he knew no different; he had been a belonging, a possession with his main purpose in life to please and entertain his master and Merlin, was he good at it. Severus knew he would never look at porridge in the same way again not after having licked it from all over Farid’s silken form, chased it with his tongue from Farid’s belly button and rimmed it from his anus. Who knew that the lumpy brew would make such a good lubrication for fucking even if it did ooze out from beneath his cock? And as he was buried deep inside his slave groaning from the sheer pleasure of it, Farid had shared what was left in the bowl by licking it, sucking it from his fingers as he was slowly fucked. His slave had been right; he thought to himself as he remembered how the boy had been quivering, begging for release just a short while earlier, till they had come together in screaming orgasm, he did like the cereal now and would have it for breakfast more often since he had learned how versatile it was.

He determined that just as he’d promised, he would look after his boy, protect him, with his strange combination of innocence and corruption, fragility and strength. So he lay there kissing Farid lovingly, holding him tenderly for just a bit longer, knowing that he would have to leave this place and face the future in only a few minutes more.


	9. Chapter Nine

Severus stood at the foot of the moving stone staircase, snarling out the names of every sweet he could think of at the impassive gargoyle which guarded the entrance to Albus’s office. Farid was standing as close to his Master as he could physically get without actually being inside his clothing with him. He had inserted his hand into the larger one of his master as soon as they had arrived in Diagon Alley and had scarcely removed it since, not surprising really, there had been more people shopping that morning that Farid had probably seen in his whole life and not a few of them were staring hard at him, this new boy clinging to the hated Hogwarts potions professor.

Severus could see things from Farid’s point of view, he really could. The boy was completely overwhelmed, he was very brave, and very strong, Severus had discovered that in the last few days, but nothing had prepared him for today’s experiences, mind you nothing had really prepared Severus either!

He wondered if he would ever be able to go back to Flourish and Blotts after scolding Farid for touching a rare volume the boy had prostrated himself begging his master’s forgiveness. It was here of course that Severus discovered that the boy could not read. It was obvious if you thought about it really, where on earth would he have learned? Yusuf was hardly going to break off fucking him to teach him his ABC, especially not in English, but that was something else that would need to be added to the list, (which was becoming longer by the day) of things that Farid needed to know to aid socialisation.

He also cringed inwardly when he thought of how Farid had been in Madam Malkin’s, after Snape had taken him in to be measured. The assistant had asked him to remove the cloak that Severus had dressed him in and he had, but he had not stopped there, before Severus was able to prevent him he was nearly naked, exposing his nipple rings and the love bites that decorated his skin, oh and of course the still fading welts from his two day old beating. Realising that he had once again upset his master he had thrown himself nude at his master’s feet and begged forgiveness, Severus wondered where he was going to buy his robes from now, as he liked Madam Malkin’s, he just didn’t think he could ever return.

And Severus was not the most patient of men, so he had continually snapped at his slave whenever he did something wrong, like kneeling beside him when he collected his potions ingredients, or licking the ice cream off his master’s fingers at Fortescue’s’. Then of course there was the whole language issue, in fact the only time that things had been even slightly right between them all day was when Severus took them into a little shop off Knockturn Alley that sold toys and Severus had chosen a selection of items to try out later, including a blue soft leather collar added to his purchases after he had seen Farid stroking it wistfully with a rather lost look on his face. But even here Severus had had to put up with the oily lasciviousness of the shop’s leering proprietor, who had run his hand over Farid’s once again firmly trouser clad arse and made several suggestive comments about what a lucky wizard he was and how he might like to reduce his bill by payment in kind.

Right at this moment poor Farid seemed to be getting more and more confused and he seemed to be dealing with this confusion by shutting down. The boy that was standing beside Severus now was practically fucking catatonic and had barely even noticed the delights that Hogwarts had to offer.

For a moment Severus heartily wished that he had just said, “thanks but no thanks,” to Yusuf’s offer of a willing boy to warm his bed. Then he turned slightly to look at the slave and he felt overcome with pity. The poor child really had tried so hard today. He was standing now with his head down and his eyes staring sadly at the floor and those even white teeth of his were busy worrying his bottom lip, a sure sign of anxiety so Severus had learned. So he gently squeezed Farid’s hand and reached up to stroke the thick dark hair that they had tied back into a single plait to try to contain its exuberance.

Turning back to the gargoyle, Severus was rapidly running out of sweets when he finally muttered _Polo Mints_ under his breath, and watched half glad, half disappointed when the creature spring into life and the stone staircase began to move at last.

Severus stomach felt like it was about to drop into his boots, he had dreaded this moment all day that was probably one of the things that had made him so snappy with Farid. How the fuck was he going to tell his mentor, the only man he had ever truly respected, about Farid. But there was no more time to think about it, he saw his own hand knocking at the headmaster’s door, and the kindly old voice saying “enter” and a moment later he was sitting on the comfortable chair in Albus’ office whilst Farid stood trembling beside him.

It all seemed totally unreal to Severus but the time had finally come to tell Albus and hope that he was able to help him with the dilemma in which he found himself.

“My boy, welcome! It’s so good to see you home safe. And who is this that you have brought with you?”

Severus opened his mouth to reply, but he could feel the boy standing beside him begin to tremble harder and Severus knew that whatever Albus thought of him he had promised faithfully to look after this poor damaged creature, so he gently tugged on Farid’s hand which was still clutching his master as if his life depended on it and tapped his knee and seconds later he had a lapful of exhausted slave and a dark head tucked into his neck, soaking his shirt with tears.

And whatever was to come in the interview Severus Snape had the pleasure of being the first person in about forty years to so surprise the headmaster that his eyebrows nearly reached his hairline.

“Severus,” he said in frank astonishment “What _have_ you done now?”

And Severus Snape, spy, most hated teacher at Hogwarts for the last twelve years straight and all round snarky git, blushed a deep scarlet to the very tips of his ears.

So he explained, about helping the master vampire and being sent a boy, this boy, as a thank you and then he went on to explain about the lust potion and his own rather cruel behaviour, he explained about the slavery and Farid’s apparent devotion to him and finally he started to explain about Farid’s magic, but here Dumbledore stopped him.

“Thank you Severus, that will do I think.” He said rather coldly but I am not surprised that he is magical, he would have to be to survive, even if they gave him their blood, which I assume they did, a muggle child would have died by now I think in Yusuf’s ownership, You say he is eighteen? He looks to be about only fourteen to me? And he has very little English hmm? Must make communication, a bit of a trial!”

And the it was Severus’ turn to be surprised as the old man got up from his desk and quickly conjured a chair which he placed beside Severus’. Then he gently placed a wizened old hand on Farid’s back and addressed the boy in rapid Kazakh.

When Farid heard the familiar language being spoken he nearly fainted with relief, he had tried so hard today to please his master, but all the time Master had been cross with him. And all those people! Farid had not known where to look first. 

That big group of people who all had red hair that had stared at him and laughed when he had tried to apologise to Master in the bookshop, and the woman who had rushed them from the shop that sold robes, the man who had groped his arse he could deal with, but that one seemed to make his master especially cross, and he wondered if maybe this master was not going to share him around like the other one did. 

Then they had come in here, to this room full of the magical things that hurt his head with the power that they radiated and Farid had thought that Master was going to give him to the old man, and Farid was worried because he had never had to pleasure anyone as aged as the grey bearded one before, and what if he got it wrong?

But the old man was speaking and he knew it was very bad not to listen so he peeked out from where he had buried his face in his master’s robes and his large brown eyes met kindly blue ones and Farid thought that maybe it would be alright and he could do whatever his master wanted him to.

“Hello little one, my name is Albus, what is yours?”

The accent was strange, a little clipped and stilted, but Farid could understand him so well and he was delighted, he did not mind what the old wizard wanted to do as long as he would talk to him sometimes. Today he had felt so lost, so frightened on occasion that he almost wished himself back in the vampire stronghold, they were cruel, they did hurt him more than Master ever had, but at least everything was familiar there.

So he answered the wizard as best he could, whilst all the while wondering what he would be asked to do.

“Hello Sir, my name is Farid, how may I serve you, do you want to fuck me? I am a good fuck Sir”

The old wizard’s eyes filled with tears for a moment, and then he continued

“You don’t need to serve me Farid, you don’t need to worry about that here,” and at the boy’s puzzled look, “you just stay with Severus, no one else child, no one else can touch you unless you want them to, there is no slavery here, no man can own another. 

Do you know how old you are?”

Farid was confused, what did it mean no slavery? There were slaves everywhere weren’t there? But he answered the question, he would find out more about slaves later he was sure

“I think I do. I lived with my uncle until I was eight because I was the same age as my cousin and he was eight and then Master Yusuf rescued me and then I lived with Master Yusuf for ten summers.”

The old man nodded and then continued. “How did you come to be with Severus?”

At this Farid smiled he could answer that.

“The potion, the lust potion, it made him claim me, it made him fuck me hard. But then he was sorry and he was so kind to me and he kisses me and he doesn’t fuck me hard Sir, he took me from the beatings and the hard fucking I love him Sir, he is wonderful!”

But then he looked a bit forlorn 

“But today Master was a bit cross, I am a bad slave but I don’t know how to make it better, can you tell me Sir, what have I done wrong?”

Farid had upset the old wizard somehow because the tears that had been sparkling in his eyes were now running freely down his cheeks,

But he smiled at Farid, through his tears and said, “We will talk about this soon child, your master is not angry with you, he is very fond of you I think, but I believe you could do with some peace and quiet and some sleep now, hmm? Oh and call me Albus.”

Farid knew that the old wizard was right he was more tired than he had ever been in his entire life. So he smiled at him and said in his best English 

“Sank dyou, Alboos Sir,”

He stopped listening, but instead snuggled back into the strong warm chest of Master and gently dozed.

Severus had listened to the conversation with growing frustration. He wanted to know what his slave was saying about him, he wanted to know whether Albus was about to tell him to pack his bags and ask him to never return.

But just then Albus turned to him and Farid cuddled back into his master’s arms “It seems like I owe you an apology Severus. The boy says he is eighteen, and he seems devoted to you, but he is very confused, he thinks that you are angry with him, and he thought that…..” Here Dumbledore stopped for a moment and another tear ran down his cheek, “He thought that he was here to ‘serve me’ Severus,” he said suddenly looking every one of his hundred and fifty years.

“He is very fragile I think, we will have to look after him.” Then looking directly at Severus with steel blue eyes, “ _You_ will have to look after him Severus, he might do you good! You will have to try and moderate that irascible nature of yours he already thinks he was ‘a bad slave’ today.”

Severus felt rather guilty at that so he muttered about language problems and busy shops,

But Albus continued, “I think you should get him to bed now, he is obviously very tired, he also seems very fragile, we will need to treat him with such care.”

Severus almost opened his mouth then to tell the headmaster how incredibly strong Farid was, how he had held off werewolves, survived horrendous torture, how powerful he was. But he realised that right now it would do no good, the headmaster looked exhausted himself and very, very subdued. So he lifted the sleeping boy into his arms and prepared to carry him to bed and as he started to leave the office Albus said sadly

“What have we come to Severus, when we have to try to deal with the sort of people who could do this to a child? Damn this wretched war!


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

The next five days were the best that Severus could remember, having Farid around was wonderful, it almost made Severus want to smile, all the time, sometimes he did smile, frightening the house elves and for some reason making everyone else a little jumpy.

For the first couple of days Farid had been a little jumpy too, house elves had amazed him and he had sought their friendship almost immediately. He had been quick to learn that they were the only slaves in this world, but what he thought of that Severus had yet to discover. 

When he was not Severus’ company he was usually to be found in the kitchens, talking to them, or helping them cook. He seemed to feel safer there than anywhere else in the castle, except of course when he was with Severus, who he stubbornly continued to call “master” even though Albus had explained to him that there was no such thing in the wizarding world as slavery, “at least not in _this_ country Farid.” Albus had told him this in both English and Kazakh, but Farid just smiled at him, nodded his understanding and carried on doing what he wanted to do. 

Severus wondered if this was how Farid had managed to survive as long as he had, by appearing to be compliant, submissive even, whilst hiding a core which Severus thought was as hard as tungsten as unbendable as steel. No one seemed to recognise Farid’s strength except Severus, all the other teachers, especially Albus saw him as a fragile, broken creature, ill equipped to deal with their world and went out of their way to protect him. Glaring at Severus even if he even raised his voice to the boy, or snapped at him occasionally. And apart from that first day when he had been completely exhausted, Farid seemed totally unfazed by Severus’ “irascible nature”. Severus supposed that the boy was used to being harshly, even savagely beaten regularly whether he had made an infraction or not, so someone snapping at him now and then must seem like arrows against the wind.

However he was indeed trying to curb his legendary temper as he always felt awful afterwards if he had snapped at Farid, who would simply smile his gentle smile and offer him a massage or a drink, or even a blowjob.

And that was another thing, Severus was feeling more and more uncomfortable about the relationship he was having with Farid. He knew that Farid was over eighteen and was very sexually experienced. But all of that experience had been due to rape, and of course Farid looked a lot younger than his chronological age. Now that Farid was here at Hogwarts, Severus wondered more and more what he had been thinking. Whenever Farid touched Severus, to put his hand in Severus’ larger one or to hug him as he sometimes did, he was scowled at by the majority of the teachers who had all been informed of his origins by Dumbledore, plus here in this environment Farid seemed more like a student than he had at the vampire stronghold and so to be having a sexual relationship with him just seemed wrong. Farid didn’t seem to understand though. It had taken him a couple of days to realise that Severus did not want him acting like a slave in public, so he stopped kneeling, or prostrating himself in front of Severus when they were with anyone else, but he still did that in Severus’ chambers and had seduced him every day since he had arrived.

And Severus did try not to be seduced. He had refused Farid’s attention on several occasions but he had woken to Farid’s mouth on his cock on three days out of the last five and the one night that he had tried to make the boy sleep separately not only had Farid seemed deeply hurt by being made to sleep on his own, but had woken up from a screaming nightmare, that had severely frightened Severus and nearly broken all the delicate possessions that Severus owned with the backlash that been generated from the release of magical energy that the boy seemed unable to contain.

It had taken him nearly an hour to calm the boy down from that, he had been quite hysterical to think that he might have damaged his master’s things and had told him everything that had happened in his dream, only not in English in rapid Kazakh, so that Severus had had no idea what he was saying or how to comfort him.

So this morning after so little sleep, he was tired and grumpy and not looking forward to his daily interview with Dumbledore, when the headmaster would chat to Farid in Kazakh, and Severus would worry about what Farid was saying about him, and whether he was unhappy or not.

And Severus really cared if Farid was unhappy for in just two short weeks he had come to care more about the boy than he had ever cared for anyone in his entire life before. Just as he had dreamed when he and Farid were escaping from the vampires, Farid had begun to join him in his potions lab, where he stood quietly beside his master and chopped and ground ingredients, and Severus was delighted to see that the boy showed huge aptitude for his favourite subject. He sat beside him in the evening, either on the sofa, curled against him whilst Severus read or curled at his feet looking at the picture books that Severus had acquired for him as a prelude to teaching him to read and this, almost more than the fantastic sex was what made Farid so precious to Severus, the quiet companionship that the boy offered. 

Severus did not think he could bear it if Farid did not want to be with him anymore, and he was increasingly convinced that as soon as Farid met boys and indeed girls his own age, or even slightly older, he would realise that Severus was so old compared to him, not to mention ugly, and cantankerous and in fact in no way a good catch. 

And that is when Severus wished he could cage the boy and tie him down and prevent Farid from ever leaving him, because Severus disbelieved the slavery bond that was supposed to exist between them. He thought that whilst the savage act he had performed on the boy may well have dissolved the previous bond, it had not bound Farid to him, Farid’s magic was just too strong, and whilst he knew that, Yusuf had not and so had just assumed that the spell had transferred. But Severus knew he knew in his very heart that as soon as Farid recognised this he would be off, and Severus would be so lost without him. And wasn’t that the problem with being so happy? That one day this happiness would dissolve and Severus would be all alone again.

So he made his way up to Albus’ office again, as he did every morning now and he wondered if today would be the day that Farid would leave, and what Albus might discover about his dream. 

Each day the boy’s English had improved Severus knew that. But he also knew that Farid really loved chatting to the headmaster in the language he knew best, So they walked there together and because they were in a not much used corridor where no one could see them Farid slipped his hand in Severus’s and because they were in a not much used corridor where no one could see them, Severus let him. 

As they walked Severus remembered the first night that he had taken Farid back to his rooms and tried to decide what to do with the exhausted boy, he remembered holding him, caressing him, undressing him and putting him to bed, and all whilst the boy slept on and when he held him in his arms the boy had snuggled against him like an injured child, and Severus had felt the last of the cold, cold ice with which he had covered his heart dissolve and he had slept beside him and held him the whole night long. In the morning he had shown Farid his world, and gloried in the boy’s wonder and felt strong and wanted when he sought Severus’s protection. But he sensed that Farid’s need of him grew weaker by the day and felt now that he was counting the length of their relationship in weeks rather than months.

 

 

*************************************************

 

 

Farid was confused. He did not understand what his master wanted of him. He was used to clear unambiguous commands and swift and severe punishment for disobeying those commands. But this master was different. The grey beard wanted Farid to not call him master, but to him Severus _was_ his master, he had looked after Farid and cared for him like no one else in his life had ever done. So Farid had chosen Severus, as his master, forever. He could do to Farid whatever he wished and Farid would not object, as long as he was kind to him sometimes and hugged him and soothed him and made love to him. Farid adored being made love to by his master, he loved the way that the man seemed to worship his body and he could not understand why his master had slept apart last night, because then the dreams had come.

When he had been with the vampires he had had these dreams. Of green light and screaming, a woman screaming, and cold, cruel laughter. And sometimes it was as if he saw through another’s eyes, wicked evil eyes, someone other than him whose thoughts chilled Farid to the very bone, and during these dreams the scar on his forehead, the one covered by the glamour ached and burned. When he had been with Yusuf he had been gagged when he screamed at night or fucked hard to shut him up or whipped, and so horrible, so awful had the dreams been that he had almost welcomed the physical pain that often been inflicted on him for waking his master.

But Master Severus had not beaten him, he had hugged him and kissed him and chased the dreams away. In this master’s arms Farid felt safe. He did not worry that those evil thoughts belonged to him. But last night his master had made him sleep in another bed, and when he had woken he had broken his master’s things and he was sure that he would be sent away and that scared him. 

Because since Master had come, Farid had for the first time since he could remember felt safe, even in this place with its weird magic. The powerful glowing strands of magic that bound the castle and the grey beard Albus, the ghosts whose pasts Farid could feel and the pictures that watched everyone and reported to grey beard. With his master around Farid felt invulnerable, protected. He liked the house elves best in this place, because they understood how he felt. 

He knew what grey beard had told him was true by now. That there was no slavery in this world, that he had been kidnapped, and raped and tortured that slavery was an aberration, that his life should have been different. But what Albus Grey Beard could not seem to understand was that Farid agreed with him, wished that he had had a different childhood and been able to come to Hogwarts to learn all about his magic when he was just eleven, like Albus said other magical children did, but that had not happened. Whether it was right or wrong Farid had been enslaved, he had been owned by someone who had the power of life and death over him, who had made decisions about every aspect of his life and he had had no choices, no power over his own destiny and no rights whatsoever.

He was scared to be on his own just yet, and he relied on his master to help him when he could not make decisions for himself, when he was worried by his dreams, when he felt overwhelmed by the world he had just entered. He knew that his master would help him to be strong and learn to control his magic and that maybe one day he would be able to make all his own decisions, but he had only been free of whips and cages for a little more than a week and Farid knew that he was just not quite ready for what they offered him.

But just these last couple of days Master had seemed to back away, at least at night and so Farid was frightened that he did not want him anymore and would send him away and Farid knew he would do anything absolutely anything to avoid losing this man’s love. 

So today Farid would ask Albus sir to ask master to tell him what he had done so that he could be better and master would make love to him again like he used to and everything would be like it was in the past and maybe one day, when he felt strong enough he would be ready to be free like they wanted him to be, but Farid knew that whatever form that freedom took, he would not want, he would never want, to be away from the man that he loved with all his heart.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

 

Farid sat in the large squashy sofa that was in one corner of Dumbledore’s office. Albus had given the boy his by now usual mug of milky coffee and a sticky bun, but today Farid had ignored this usually treasured treat and instead launched immediately into rapid Kazakh as soon as they had entered. He was gesturing wildly and Albus was nodding and occasionally saying something in return, before being overwhelmed again by whatever Farid wanted to say and it seemed that Farid wanted to say plenty!

Finally though he was quieting, listening to Albus carefully and nodding occasionally, At last Albus spread his hands palms downwards and made a patting gesture in the air, and Farid stopped talking and picked up his coffee and his sticky bun and looked at Albus and Severus expectantly 

“Well Severus,” he said at last in English. “I think I have been underestimating this young man for some time and he has very definite views on how he is being treated.”

Severus’ heart sank this was it then. But surely it was too soon? Farid could not have tired of him already!

But Albus was continuing and at his next words Severus nearly fell out of his seat with shock.

“Farid is worried that you do not care about him any more. He says that he loves you with all that he is, and he wants to belong to you, and that he is scared because you don’t want him anymore and you are pushing him away, oh and that you do not want sex with him any more either.”

Severus’ mouth dropped open now, because not only was this the last thing that he was expecting Farid to be saying to Albus but also because hearing Albus casually discussing his sex life was, well not only unexpected but somewhat alarming.

But Albus continued, “Farid, also says that he does understand what we are saying about slavery but he wants to belong to you, in whatever way we will allow him to, because this world is strange to him and confusing and he feels safe with you. So Severus I hope you don’t mind but I suggested an apprenticeship, as it is after all far too late for him to start to attend school, even with the other eighth years, as his experiences are so far from theirs, that way he could remain in your chambers. I must say Severus; it is something I have been thinking about for sometime but Farid is adamant that he wants to be with you, and seems quite distressed about his perception that you do not want him anymore. And he wants me to ask him what he has done wrong so that he can stop being, in his words “not good enough for Master””

“I don’t want him anymore?” Said Severus in complete astonishment, and then immediately he had to rush over to Farid and reassure him, the poor boy had let out a gasp and dropped the coffee at Severus’ question, which he had assumed was a statement, and then of course he could only be calmed down when Albus explained to him in Kazakh that Severus had been asking a question and had not said that he did not want Farid, at least that is what Severus assumed he was saying as he was glaring at Severus and patting the boy’s back as he spoke to try and calm his trembling.

After a warning from Albus Severus proceeded to talk directly to Farid, speaking quietly, gently trying to reassure him. Severus had never even considered that Farid might be feeling this way. Used, eager to move away from Severus yes, but worried that _he_ might not want Farid anymore, not once was that something he had ever considered. 

“Farid,” he said, “Farid, look at me.” And when Farid did as he was told, turning those dark, dark eyes of his on him, today missing the occasional green glints that they emitted, so sad as they were right now. Severus nearly melted inside, he could see all the way to the boy’s soul. Farid had let down any defences he had ever put up and Severus as a superb Legilimens could read the raw need, the want of Severus to look after him, the plea that Farid sent him from the bottom of his heart.

“Look after me,” it said “love me, please love me.” And Severus could not help himself, he knew that the boy needed to be reassured, how could he have forgotten that look of love that the boy kept bestowing on him? How could he have forgotten to look at those eyes, those beautiful dark eyes so full of need for his master?

“I will not leave you Farid,” he said, “not as long as you need me, I….I care for you very much, but one day, one day soon you might want to go away, be with someone else, someone less…. Bad tempered than me, less ugly….more attractive, more loveable perhaps?”

But at Severus’s words Farid was shaking his head and before he knew it his arms were once again full of shaking sobbing boy. A boy who was denying his words, “Masteerr, not nugly, Masteerr, beautiful, so beautiful, Farid lof Masteerr always lof Masteerr.” And he was being covered in wet kisses and finally he grabbed hold of this wriggling ball of passion and kissed him firmly, until he stopped squirming and instead looked deep into Severus’s eyes again.

Severus was not sure what Farid read in his eyes, what he saw in Severus soul. But he got down from his lap and knelt on the floor bending his head and he said,

“Masteerr, Farid lof dyou, always serve you.” Severus could feel the boy’s conviction, that he believed with every atom of his being, in what he was saying was undeniable. Against, all odds Severus suspected, finally believed that the boy truly did love him, with such passion and sincerity that Severus was deeply, deeply moved. And he vowed to put aside his doubts and do whatever the boy needed to grow, to be strong and to try to get past all that had been done to him. 

So he reached down and took the boy’s shoulders. “Farid,” he said, “get up and look at me again, I need you to listen very carefully,” Now he looked at Albus, “anything you do not understand Albus will translate okay?”

Farid looked at him again, and the need still shone in his eyes. So Severus told him that he would be there for him always, whenever he was needed and Farid just had to say what he wanted and Severus would do his best to give whatever it was to Farid and he would be Farid’s Master and Farid could be his slave if that what was he wanted and Severus would always want him and love him.

And then Farid cuddled up beside him and the three of them in a peculiar combination of English and Kazakh, discussed what would happen when the students returned. Albus explained to Farid, that sometimes he would join the eighth years for extra tuition, he also explained that most schools only had seven years of magical education, but because they had had to close for a year several years ago, when a little girl had died and the hands of a very bad man called Tom Riddle and children had been kept away, Hogwarts had eight age years of students. He told Farid that the oldest students would be the same age as Farid and with them he might even find friends. 

Farid had asked them then what friends were and Albus had explained. Farid had insisted that he had friends now, Albus, the house elves and of course his master.

And Albus and smiled and had said that one could never have too many friends and that friendship would help Farid grow and that every one would think that Farid was Severus’ apprentice and that he should call him sir in public, but that when they were alone together, Farid could be whatever he needed to be and Severus would help him, and support him and love him. 

They told him that he had to know these things because the students would be back tomorrow and they would not understand about Farid and Severus, because they could never understand what had happened to Farid and Farid opened his mouth to say something, but whatever he was about to say was never heard because just at that moment a large brown bird flew into the room and landed on Albus’s desk and he apologised, saying that he was expecting this message and he would just have to read it.

Farid sat patiently whilst the headmaster read his note, and said nothing at all, he was apprehensive about tomorrow, he now knew that the other children who were due to arrive the next day would view him as different, they would have had normal lives, and not have spent their childhood’s enslaved by vampires and Farid would be strange to them, so he would have to pretend. But Farid could do that, for his master, because his master said he loved him, and with that Farid was content.

But then Albus Grey Beard looked up from the note that he was reading and his eyes were shining.

“Severus, oh Severus!” He said, this note is from Remus and Sirius; “ they think they have found him at last, the Chosen One, Harry Potter! We are saved Severus, we are saved.”

And Farid remembered

He remembered being an awful lot smaller than he was now, his first day at school, a woman a nice one, who had taken his hand in hers, had actually touched him kindly, actually wanted to touch him at all, he had thought he was disgusting, untouchable but she did not seem to think so and had taken his hand without cringing away or wiping her own hand at his touch.

“Don’t you know your name child? I have called it three times now. That’s you silly, Harry. Harry Potter. Didn’t you know?" But Farid hadn’t known. He’d thought his name was “Freak” That was the word carved into his hip, after all the only word he could read. Farid, felt cold all over, because he remembered, finally remembered trying hard not to forget his name, all that time in that cold, lonely cage he had tried to hold on to the fact that he was a boy called Harry and not a slave called Farid, but they had beaten him and hurt him and finally he had submitted and forgotten, because Harry was free and had maybe had a future someday away from those who hated him, but Farid was different, he never could be free again.

But Albus was talking once more and he was so happy, because he was saying that they were saved, now that they had found Harry Potter and Farid was scared all over again. Because he knew that whoever this strange boy was he was not this mysterious thing called “a chosen one,” because he was not Harry Potter and if Albus Grey Beard was pleased that they had found this boy wouldn’t he be disappointed when he realised that they really hadn’t and that Farid and Harry Potter were one and the same?

Then his master had grabbed his hand and was leaving the office, and because Farid had not really been listening, but instead trying to make sense of all he had heard he did not know why his master seemed so angry. But he was following Master now, and Master was moving so fast that Farid had to run to keep up with him, and he determined that when they returned to Master’s chambers he would ask him because Master had said he could ask anything and that he would help him.

But when they reached Master’s rooms, Master was in a towering rage and he was shouting and Farid had never, not once seem him like this.

“Fucking Harry Potter!!” He was shouting, “that’s all he can talk about, I knew it. The boy has green eyes and dark hair just like the Potter baby was known to, so now we can all go hang, and the spoiled little brat will come waltzing in here, just like his father did, taking over, bullying everyone. Just like fucking James did! Come here Farid, I need you now, I need to fuck you, is that alright with you?”

Master had taken Farid’s face in his hand and was looking into his eyes, so Farid nodded and before he knew it he was on his back and being prepared 

“Hard Farid,” Master growled, “Hard for me,” so Farid was and the blue collar was around his neck and Farid did not know how to feel, he felt safe and loved and protected as Farid, as his master’s hands ran over his naked body and caressed him and stroked him, and as Master's lips told him how much he was loved and before he knew it Master was inside him and he felt filled and safe and possessed. 

But Master had been muttering about Harry Potter and how much he hated him, and how much more he hated his father and Farid thought, even as Master pounded into him brushing his prostate with every stroke and even as he came harder than he ever had before when Master commanded him to do so, that he could never tell him who he really was, because Master hated Harry Potter, but he did not hate Farid. 

So even as Master grew heavy on top of him and sank into sleep Farid strengthened the glamour determined that Master would never see his eyes coloured like death as they were, and he must never see the scars that marred his forehead and his hip, that Yusuf had first covered all those years ago because Master hated Harry Potter and he hated his father James and Farid knew that’s why his uncle must have hated him too. And as Master slept on he promised himself that he would not jeopardise Master’s love and when they brought this other boy to Hogwarts he would not say anything because if Master did not love him, then he might as well be dead. 

Then finally with that decision made the frantic boy let himself drift slowly to sleep held tightly, desperately in the arms of the man he loved beyond all reason.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Severus awoke with a start. He had to get Farid to Ollivander’s for four thirty to get him a wand, he cast tempus and saw that it was ten past two already. Albus still did not quite believe Severus when he kept telling the headmaster how magically powerful the boy was, so perhaps a wand would convince him? He had done a scan the morning after their arrival and found that Farid’s levels of magic seemed to be very low, barely more than squib level. But Severus knew that this was not so. He had never in all his years of teaching seen anyone even half as magically gifted as Farid, anyone who had near as much power, Farid however had learned to hide his magic, from his uncle, from the vampires, from everyone and did not seem to intend to let anyone else in on the secret just yet. 

But Severus could not help feeling a little disgruntled that Albus would not believe him. The headmaster had told him that the instruments he had used to test Farid could not be fooled; they were incorruptible, always correct. He suggested that what had happened in the forest when the werewolves had attacked was a freak event, that his and Farid’s magic had somehow combined at a time of extreme peril but Severus knew that that was not the case. 

There had of course been last night when the young man had been dreaming and just for a moment or two his magic had flown out of control, Severus had felt the sheer power radiating off him, power which Severus firmly suspected was growing stronger with every passing day. To Severus last night’s events had been proof enough.

But he also remembered how the boy had vanished their breakfast tray that time in the inn, or other tiny incidents that he had seen when Farid had not been concentrating. The time that all of Severus’ potion instruments had been returned to their places cleaned and prepared for the next day or the occasion when Severus had been holding a fully clothed boy in his arms one minute and within seconds of initiating a kiss found himself with a lap full of naked slave. 

It was perhaps the way that Farid used powerful magic with such casualness that truly impressed Severus most but of course he also knew that while Farid had let his guard down with him, he was quietly hiding from the rest of the world. Still it did irk him somewhat that Albus would rather believe a collection of battered instruments over Severus’ testimony however reliable they had been in the past.

Severus was determined that _he_ would teach Farid, and one day Albus would see the truth and then he would be sorry! He was aware how childish he sounded, but he couldn’t help himself. He had always loved and admired Albus, but he strongly suspected that sometimes, Albus did not think a great deal of him, he often assumed that Severus was in the wrong and indeed had not even believed him about Farid until the boy confirmed that what he had told Albus about finding him was true, and it _hurt_ damn it! It hurt that Albus automatically assumed the worst of Severus and Severus always had to prove himself. Severus had been risking his life for years as a spy, desperately trying to make Albus proud of him and that dreadful Sirius Black had just come waltzing back when he was proved innocent to praise and accolades and acclaim.

Everyone had been astonished when Hermione Granger’s cat had caught the pet rat of one of the Weasley boys. The cat was part kneazle apparently and had suspected something wrong with the boy’s pet. It had pursued it all year until finally catching it, in The Great Hall, just before dinner, one wet Wednesday evening, in front of the whole school. The rat had been an unregistered animagus and had been forced to transform back into his human form or be eaten. So when Peter Pettigrew who was supposed to have died twelve years previously trying to capture Black who had widely been suspected of causing the death of the Potters had suddenly appeared everyone had been stunned. Black had been released from Askaban, given a public apology and been a staunch supporter of Albus in his search for the missing Potter child ever since. 

But Severus still hated him; he hated the way that all the misery in his life, all the unhappiness had come down to the behaviour of one or the other of The Marauders and he thought to himself that he still hated James most, because whilst he and Black were natural rivals, he had admired James and wanted to be his friend, and later, why later he had wanted something else. But Potter had never even looked at him, greasy spotty teenager as he had been, whereas James with his artfully messy hair and flawless complexion had been pursued by half the school until finally allowing himself to be caught by the gorgeous Lily Evans.

When those two had gotten together all of Severus’ hopes and dreams had shattered. He had loved Lily as a friend, she had been one of the few at school who had been kind to Severus, he had known that he was a particularly unattractive personality, but Lily had not seemed to mind, she had been loving and kind and a good friend to him. But when she had started going out with James Severus had been unable to forgive her, he had snubbed her and ignored her, finally joining Voldemort in a search for revenge. By the time that Severus had realised how twisted and evil Voldemort really was Lily would no longer have anything to do with him and just a few short years later both she and James were dead.

And now their child was coming to Hogwarts and Severus did not know what he felt anymore.

Then the boy that he still held tight in his arms moved a little in his sleep and Severus felt his heart lurch with love. He looked down at his beloved Farid, the only person apart from his mother who had ever truly loved him who had only a few short hours ago insisted that he loved him so much that he wanted to belong to him for always. 

He trailed his hand gently over the collar, which the boy wore. He had fixed it on him in the heat of passion, the first time that the slave had actually worn it, Severus had needed to mark him as his, needed to know that somewhere in this wide world, some one belonged to him and him alone. Then his hand trailed down to the rings that still pierced the young man’s nipples and he gently tugged at one causing Farid to sigh gently in his sleep. 

These were the only piercings that Severus had left in the boy; he had removed the one in his tongue and the large rings that had been in his cock and balls. But the nipple rings Severus thought beautiful and they made Farid so sensitive there, so much fun to play with, to idly twiddle with his forefinger and thumb. He looked at the young man’s face again now, and saw that tears had dried on his cheeks and Severus felt guilty, he must have frightened the boy he thought, with his anger, with the rough way he had used him, and he lent over to place a tender kiss on the slightly parted lips.

And Farid awoke. 

“Masteerr! He breathed, “How may this slave seerrve dyou Masteerr?” But Severus just placed a finger gently on the boy’s lips, he wondered how long it would be before Farid would awake without asking that question, it, like so many of his other submissive behaviours seemed innate now. The way that the slave’s body was always open to him in sleep if he were anywhere near him, and Farid’s arms were always raised above his head with the wrists crossed, just as if they had been tied, when Severus began to make love to him, he always had to give the boy permission to touch him. If Farid slept alone, he curled into a ball with his wrists and ankles held close to each other as if chained together and when Severus had asked he had been told that this was how Farid had slept when he was alone in the golden cage that Master Yusuf had kept in the corner of his room. 

Part of Severus was overcome with sadness when Farid casually described the training he had undergone, without ire or resentment, just as fact. But another part of Severus, the part he did not like to think about was thrilled and aroused by Farid. To have this beautiful boy, freely available whenever he wanted him, willing, open to anything and so well trained, how could he, Slytherin as he was, not enjoy such temptations when they were offered?

But he had vowed to always treasure this unexpected gift and treat him kindly.

“It’s time to get up Dear One,” He said gently smiling down as his boy. “We have to get you a wand today, because classes start tomorrow.”

He watched a frown crease Farid’s brow, “Do we chave to go to chops Masteerr?” Farid asked gazing up at him through those chocolate eyes of his, his neat white teeth worrying his plump lower lip. Severus wanted to be the one chewing on, kissing and licking that gorgeous mouth but he restrained himself. They had to dress, to eat and Severus had to make sure that Farid was able to pronounce Ollivander’s name correctly as Severus had made an appointment with the wand maker, who had promised to close the shop just for them, Severus did not want a repeat of the previous shopping trip that they had undertaken. So this time they would be arriving by floo and Severus wanted Farid to be word perfect, he shuddered at the thought of losing him somewhere in the network.

And Severus had lay beside his slave, thinking, pondering, too long, and now if they did not hurry, they would be late. Severus sent Farid to wash and dress and he removed the boy’s collar promising that if he were good, he would put it back on him later, they ate quickly and with barely a moment to spare stood by the fireplace ready to floo.

He showed Farid what he needed to do and arrived at Ollivander’s exactly on time, stepping out of the fireplace elegantly as he always did he was seconds later nearly propelled off his feet by a staggering, stumbling Farid who landed beside his master right at the feet of the proprietor in a coughing, spluttering heap.

Ollivander looked down at the boy, seemingly completely unfazed by what had just happened. “Ah, Professor Snape, “ he said, "mahogany and unicorn tail hair, 11 inches, pliable wand good for transfiguration and potions hmmm? So this is your new protégée, Oh yes, I can see why you are so taken with him, not only is he very pretty but the magic is very powerful in him is it not, to have the floo spit him out like that? ”

Severus felt vindicated. He wished that Albus were beside him right now so that he could turn and say, “see Albus, I told you so!” But Albus was not here so instead he helped Farid to his feet and introduced him to the wand maker. “Mr Ollivander, this is my new apprentice Farid….eh… Prince, Farid Prince.”

“How do you do, Mr _Prince_ , how unusual that you share the same surname as the Professor’s mother.” He peered shrewdly at Severus who blushed, God he had not blushed since he was a very young man indeed, but now that Farid was in his life he seemed to blushing like a naughty schoolboy all the time.

But Farid was greeting the shop owner politely, graciously just as Severus had taught him.

“Chow do dyou do Sirr? I cham pleas to meet dyou.”

“Pleased to meet you too young man, tell me where that interesting accent comes from?”

And they were away, Ollivander chatting to Severus’ new apprentice and pulling wand after wand from his well stocked shelves searching for the perfect one for this boy, and getting more excited by the minute as the wand proved ever more elusive.

Severus let his mind wander thinking about the next day when the students would return, how he and Farid would cope and how often he would manage to get the slave entirely to himself, then he looked up and saw Rudolphus Lestrange at the door, trying the handle. Severus panicked. He had not yet told Voldemort about his acquisition and did not want the evil one finding out from anyone but himself. So telling Farid to stay with Ollivander he rushed outside to try to stave off what could be disaster.

Farid looked at his master’s departing back in confusion, but this is where he had been told to stay, so stay he would. He looked back at the strange silver man who had tried so unsuccessfully to probe his mind. But Farid was far too experienced to let anyone read his thoughts if he did not want them too, and he could see this Ollivander was intrigued by him.

“Hmmm,” He said, “You are magically very powerful; perhaps the most powerful wizard I have ever seen. In all my years of wand making I have only ever come across one wizard that even remotely approached your level of ability. I wonder? Yes, I think it might just work!” Grabbing a very dusty box from a high shelf he took the wand it contained out and placed it in Farid’s right hand, and suddenly as if from nowhere a shower of red and golden sparks rained down on them.

“Oh, yes.” Ollivander chuckled, “My dear yes!!” He turned his head to one side and narrowed his eyes, peering closely at Farid. “I think we are hiding, aren’t we my dear child? Now why would you want to do that? That’s what took me so long you know finding your wand, your glamour. It is very powerful, very strong but I see now who you are, oh yes.”

Farid felt his blood run cold, this man knew, knew who he was would he tell? Would Farid be safe? What on earth was he going to do?

“Don’t worry dear child, your secret is safe with me. It is just very remarkable, don’t you think? This wand is Holly 11 inches; it has a phoenix feather at its core, it is very strange that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed Mr _Potter_ that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why its brother gave you that scar.”*

Farid was trembling now, this man knew, he knew who Farid really was but how could he. How could he when Farid himself had only found out earlier that day, now he would tell Master and Dumbledore and they would hate him and send him back, and Farid knew that now that he was away from Yusuf he would rather die than return to the way things had been.

But the wand maker was smiling at him in a way that was almost kindly, “Do not worry Mr Potter,” He purred, “I will not tell anyone what I know, but just remember my boy you have been marked by destiny and there is no escaping such a mark not ever. One day soon you must stand up and embrace it or it will destroy you, eradicate you completely.”

And Farid panicked, he turned and he ran, straight into the arms of his master who had just that second come through the door. Master nodded politely at the wand maker, asked him to send on the bill and then grabbing Farid and holding him tight jumped into the floo and shouted in a loud clear voice “Hogwarts!”

 

* Taken from Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, UK edition pp 65


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Farid was standing as close to his master as it was possible to get, to watch the arrival of the students and Severus was exhausted. The twenty four hours since he had left Ollivander’s had been so eventful and Severus was still reeling from it all. Last night had been their last night eating together in Severus’ chambers, Dumbledore had decreed that, even though Farid was a special case, an apprentice not a student, he would be sorted and eat with the members of his new house, whatever that might be.

The staff were divided over which house Farid would be in, most of them, including Albus were convinced that he would be in Hufflepuff, because of his loyalty to Severus and his submissive nature, but Severus thought that Farid was a Slytherin through and through. Whatever house the hat chose for him though he would only take some classes with them, he would continue to live and sleep and do most of his training with Severus.

Ever since their last night at the vampire stronghold Farid had always sat to eat with Severus, in his own chair, with his own utensils, even if those chairs were far closer than they might normally be. He would never kneel beside his master to eat ever again as far as Severus was concerned; mealtimes had taken on a whole new significance because of course Severus loved watching his slave eat. Farid found such joy in this simple freedom, he would savour every mouthful and then lick his fingers with great gusto, quite often after that he would lick Severus’s fingers too and they would end up in bed together and Farid would put his mouth to other purposes, purposes that were just as pleasurable, if not more so. But Severus was doing his best to teach Farid that this way of eating could only be done in private.

Farid could not understand that he could not suck his master’s fingers in public, or get on his knees and suck any other part of his anatomy either, as he had indeed done more than once, because this was what Farid had always done and the problem was that Farid was very, very good at what he had been trained to do, he pressed all of Severus’s arousal buttons and Severus could simply not resist him. 

They had tonight, for the first time managed the whole meal without any erotic incidents whatsoever and Severus was quite absurdly pleased with himself and yet at the same time hugely disappointed. Afterwards he had promised himself that he would take Farid into the bedroom and fuck him senseless, but just as pudding was served by a rather nervous house-elf named Bluie who had attached herself firmly to Severus’ strange new household since the arrival of Farid, he felt the familiar sharp burning sting in his forearm. He gasped and grabbed his arm which was increasingly awash with pain, focusing all his attention on that area, setting his teeth on edge; for a moment or two Severus’ dark mark burned ever more strongly and then it subsided to a dull but persistent ache. He was being summoned.

He cursed himself for not having explained to Farid about his spying activities and now there was no time, for the first time since they had been together Severus had to leave Farid behind, he only had minutes to make a decision because if he did not arrive quickly or have an explanation for why he was delayed then Severus would be punished, painfully.

He dismissed the elf and grabbed Farid’s hand, “quick Farid we must go to Dumbledore Master must go out,” and they ran as fast as they could, along corridors, past portraits until they got to the foot of the stairs leading to Albus’ office where Severus of course realised that he did not know the pass word.

He groaned in despair.

“Masteerr, cwhat is wrong?”

“We need a pass-word, Farid,” Severus said, and then looking into the boy’s eyes, “to open the way, to move the guardian,” Farid put his head on one side and looked quizzically at Severus, who closed his eyes in despair, he had minutes left to apparate to Voldemort’s side, he knew what it was about, this summons, he knew what the Dark Lord wanted to ask him about. 

Farid.

Rudolpus Lestrange had seen them in Ollivander’s and reported back, and The Dark Lord wanted to know more.

He and Albus had already discussed this issue at length, Severus would tell Voldemort that Farid was a lame duck rescue of Albus’ and that he had been foisted upon Severus by the headmaster, Severus would pretend to be reluctant, and no-one could find out how things really were, because the Dark Lord was a jealous master and he would want what Severus had for himself, and Severus could simply not do that to Farid. He could not, would not share him, not for the war, not to keep his cover, not for anything. The very thought of his sweet boy being made to serve the monsters who supported the evil wizard made Severus feel cold all over. And luckily, because Severus did not know what he would have done had things been different Albus agreed with him.

But he opened his eyes again, resigned to start the litany of bloody sweeties to meet the upturned face of his curious slave.

“Open?” He said, and at Severus’ nod, he waved his hand once and the gargoyle moved aside at once.

“Open!” This time with a huge grin on his face.

And once more Severus was astonished, what Farid had just done so casually was impossible, the headmaster, he who controlled the school, set the passwords. There was no way that Farid should have been able to do what he had, never mind with such ease, but now Farid was pulling him up the stairs,

“We go qvick?” He asked as he pulled Severus up behind him

 

***********************************************

 

Either he had not been quick enough, or the Dark Lord was in a foul mood anyway, because Severus certainly had suffered tonight. But at least he seemed to believe him about Farid. So despite the pain that he was in and the exhaustion he felt mildly elated and at the same time very tired. All he wanted was a couple of potions to take away the pain of the Cruciatus, a hot bath and a loving boy in his bed, but when he returned the castle had been in uproar.

Farid was missing.

They had looked everywhere they told him, absolutely everywhere and he simply could not be found.

Albus looked terrible, but for once Severus did not care, he was absolutely furious with the old man, but he let himself be dragged into the headmaster’s office while Hagrid and a number of the teachers searched the castle from end to end looking for the missing boy. 

“I am so sorry my boy,” Albus said, “ I should have listened to you about Farid’s magic. The last two hours have been……very difficult for him. This office, hurt his eyes, he can see the magic here Severus. To _see_ magic, be able to tell me the colour of it, that is phenomenal, astonishing. I asked him why this had not happened before but he said that it was because of the pain tonight, the pain in his head. I think he is connected to you somehow Severus, because…. He knew that Voldemort tortured you, he was desperate to get you but he could not see he said because of the magic in the room and because of all the dark objects.

“Albus, you are rambling, you are not making sense, what on earth are you talking about?”

I’m, sorry Severus, so sorry.” The old man looked tired and haggard but he took a deep breath and tried to explain things more succinctly. Farid had been fine at first, he had missed Severus but he and Albus had chatted and then Farid had asked Dumbledore why he kept all the dark objects, he had been referring to the artefacts that had belonged to Tom Riddle, the things that Dumbledore strongly believed contained the fragmented parts of Voldemort’s soul.

“He knew, which ones they were, which ones were part of Voldemort and which were just cursed or otherwise dark, he sat right here and told me, which were safe, which were cursed, he said he could see the strands of darkness. Weeks and weeks Kingsley and I have been working on them, and that child told me more about them in ten minutes than we have found out in all that time.”

“But then he clutched his head and started to keen, and rock back and forth, he said that ‘the Evil One’ was hurting you, and then, then it is as though he could feel your pain, Cruciatus, I would recognise it anywhere, and he kept you under for so long! Farid was screaming and screaming. But then he stopped suddenly and said, ‘It is finished, Master is safe now.’ And for a moment or two he was fine but then Tom must have moved on to someone else?” Here Dumbledore, looked at Severus for confirmation, and at the Potion Master’s curt nod, “Farid saw that too, and felt it, and he was screaming again, how can that be? How can it be?

But then he started to sob, Severus, he said the magic was hurting him and he wanted you, he kept saying cage or master, master or cage over and over again. Did they cage him Severus? Did they keep the child in a cage?”

Albus was so upset, but Severus could not comfort him, he was too angry, he still had not found out about Farid yet, where he might have gone, had he tried to search for him? Had he run from the room? Where the fuck was he?

He snapped at Albus in his rage and worry. Of course they kept him in a cage Albus, they beat him and tortured him and raped him and yes they kept him in a fucking cage. Now where is he? where did he go?”

“I do not know Severus, he was screaming and I was holding him and trying to soothe him and then, and then he just vanished, he did the impossible he apparated within Hogwarts, we know he didn’t leave the grounds because the alarms on the wards did not go off. But what he did, it can’t be done, such power Severus, such magic!”

“I know Albus, I _told_ you how powerful he was, it was you who did not believe, with your tests and your instruments, but I need to find him I need to find him now, he’ll be frightened, he’ll need me and I don’t know where to start looking!”

 

*************************************************

 

It was cold and dark and cramped.

Farid had seen the cages when he was in the barns two days ago, helping Hagrid. He had needed to be quiet, safe, away from all the bright magic, being here was like when he was back with the vampires, he had always given up when they put him in a cage, he felt acceptance then, he had stopped fighting and just submitted and it had been peaceful, sometimes he had been gagged, or tied or both, they had usually left him alone though so mostly his cage had been almost a sanctuary, a haven. 

Small as he was he was still crammed into the diminutive mesh box, curled into a little ball he felt the metal press against him and he was comforted. If his master could not hold him then he needed to be here, away from all the bright magic and away from the pain and Albus Grey Beard’s need. He had been in the mind of the evil one much of the evening and that felt like being buried in slime, black and dark and menacing. He had heard his thoughts, the glee that Voldemort had felt when he had tortured his followers, when he had tortured Farid’s master, such evil such pleasure in another’s pain. Farid felt disgust and revulsion. 

Farid did not understand why his master would be one of the evil one’s followers, it did not fit what he knew of his master, or of the grey beard come to that, he thought that his master was hiding like he had hidden his magic when he was with the vampires. But he could not be sure, he felt that he should trust Master, but there had been that time when Severus had enjoyed his pain, and then there was the way Master felt about Harry Potter, the Chosen One. 

Did that mean that he was chosen? What was he chosen for? He was scared. Terrified if he were honest. He had some sort of connection with the evil one, it had been there for a few years now, but muted, just on the edge of his conciousness, but here the dark one felt so much closer. As yet he had not noticed Farid, but when he did, would he come for him? Would he come for his master? Was this what the silver man had meant? 

Farid wished he could talk to Severus, ask him, but then he would have to admit to being Harry Potter and he could not bear to see the anger in his master’s eyes, the anger that had been so apparent when his name had been mentioned, by grey beard, Albus who needed so much from Farid, had looked at him with hunger in his eyes when Farid had told him about seeing magic. 

In the quiet, in the darkness, his eyes were wide open and he chewed his lower lip, stroked his own face with the back of one hand, he had learned to comfort himself from an early age, and this is what he did now, worn out with worry without realising, without knowing, he lulled himself to sleep.

Severus had finally found Hagrid over near the green houses, if anyone knew where there were cages in this place then it would be him, and Farid seemed to feel comfortable with Hagrid, Severus did not know why, but he suspected that Farid felt safe with the kindly half giant, Farid had been raised like an animal, without even basic human rights, the behaviours he had been taught, some of them were so deeply ingrained that Severus wondered if he could ever change them, but Hagrid did not judge, he accepted Farid as he would accept any damaged young thing, and Farid would chatter to him, and listen to him learning a very strange sort of English from such a peculiar source. 

Together, he and Hagrid and Albus, who guilt ridden at being unable to comfort the boy, had insisted on tagging along made their way to the barn where Hagrid kept hay for the thestrals, and there in a corner, was a small stack of cages, battered and rusty and forgotten, and curled up fast asleep, in the smallest one in a tiny ball, his hair all wild and messy and tear stains trailing down his pale white cheeks, looking for all the world like a fallen angel was Farid.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

They had to vanish the cage to get Farid out of it. Severus had held the sobbing boy and caressed him and carried him gently back to the castle, held tight in his arms, he was pale and trembling in the moonlight, bled of all colour by the night. 

He took him to his chambers and lay him down on the bed.

“Oh God” he whispered into Farid’s hair, his cheek pressed tight against the boy’s, feeling the roughness from where the earlier tears had dried, feeling the moisture from where the new ones flowed, “I thought I had lost you,” he whispered, “I thought you had gone.”

“M’sorry,” Farid murmured, “M’sorry Masteerr, the evil man hurt dyou? I saw it, I feels it!”

“I’m okay my love, feel me, touch me, see for yourself.”

He guided Farid’s hands over his face let him explore, and all the while he was undressing the boy, almost frantically searching him to make sure he was unharmed. When he was finally naked, he ran his hands over the boy’s silken skin, rejoicing in the feel of him. He turned the boy over and began to explore his back, his legs, his arse. Running his fingers along the cleft, pushing gently into the anus.

“I need to be inside you Farid, are you okay with this?” He growled huskily, voice filled with need

Farid barely had time to nod before Severus was buried deep inside him pinning him to the mattress. It was animalistic, the sex. Severus pounding into the boy, possessing him, marking him as belonging to Severus, all the worry all the desperation that Severus had felt came out now as he fucked, the boy hard, driving into him, until he came, hard with a shout that was almost primeval in its intensity, long and low and deep.

He fell forward onto the boy then with a groan, his softening cock still buried in the slave’s arse. Severus was sobbing.

“I thought I had lost you, I thought you were gone.”

He turned Farid over, to see the sadness, the fear in the boy’s eyes. Farid had not come he realised, Severus had not told him to be hard, so he had not been. He was still sat astride the boy, pinning him down straddling him.

“I was so worried,” he sobbed, “so frightened!”

“M’sorry, “Farid repeated, and he reached up to Severus and stroked his face gently and said. “Farid was frighted too Masteerr.”

Then he was holding his master in his arms as the weeping man clutched him tight, buried into him and sobbed as though he were a child.

“Farid was frighted too."

The next morning the boy was very subdued, what he was thinking Severus could not guess. He followed him to breakfast at his usual two paces behind his master. He sat beside him at the staff table ate perfectly, just the way Severus had been teaching him and then he followed him again to the headmaster’s office where the gargoyle guarding the entrance just leapt aside as they approached with out Severus having to speak a word. 

Albus was waiting for them. He had not been down to breakfast, he looked tired but at the same time strangely elated. They both sat in the cosy seating area next to the big stone fireplace in the corner of Albus’ office. Farid sat stiffly, back straight not leaning against the cushions as Severus was, his chin was tilted slightly and he met Albus’ stare without turning away or flinching.

“I vant to ask dyou something Alboos Grey Beard” he said with no more ado. “I vant to ask dyou aboot the evil one, and why my master serve him and what dyou vant from me. I need dyou to tell me about all that is chappened, I no speak English well is only sing, I not stupid fool. Ve will speak English if okay, and dyou can maybe tell me in Kazakh if I no understand?”

Severus was astonished; the boy had just addressed one of the most powerful wizards of the age as if they had just met at a polite cocktail party he was completely unfazed by Albus, Severus could see and he obviously felt that he needed to know more about the situation in which he found himself, and it looked to Severus that Farid was not planning on leaving until the had told him about Voldemort, Severus caught Albus’ eye and realised that the old wizard was as astonished as he was, probably more so as he had never seen glimpses of Farid’s inner strength, whereas Severus had.

So Albus took a deep breath and explained, he told Farid, all about the rise of Tom Riddle, the death of a child in the Chamber of Secrets, about Voldemort, how powerful he was, how he had created the Horcruxes and how Severus had joined him, Severus was worried about how Farid would react to the fact that he had once been a true death eater rather than a spy but when he gained enough courage to look at the boy he saw that his face was impassive as he concentrated hard on what Albus was telling him.

“I see that Voldemort is evil and dyou must defeat chim,” Farid said stumbling just a little over the long word, “and that moost mean that sometimes dyou moost do sings that dyou not like to jo. Dyou need to break these” But why jo dyou need cHarry Potter, vhat is chosen von mean?” 

Albus was speechless. He had been giving Farid, just enough information and no more, but the boy wanted to know everything that he could, he was obviously shrewd, no one in Severus memory had ever sat with Albus before like this and demanded the truth in such a quiet but firm way Albus had underestimated him, they had all underestimated his intelligence, from last night, from little things that had been happening over the last few days he had come up with pieces of a puzzle and he was obviously determined to solve it. The silence stretched between them, Albus obviously trying to decide how much he could tell the boy.

“Alboos Grey Beard, dyou need me to break the Horcruxes, I vill break them but dyou moost tell me all I need, I vill not be used. Nor my Master.”

Severus nearly fell out of his chair.

He should have known, he really should. The young man sitting in front of him was not the sweet passive Farid that they had all come to know. This was the Farid that had stood up to Yusuf’s torture, had chosen to be tortured rather than be turned and lose his soul, this was the man who had saved them from werewolves and had survived ten years of unimaginable cruelty, and who had somehow managed to do all that with his goodness and generosity intact. He did not know what Farid would do if Dumbledore refused to tell him, but he had also heard that subtle defence of himself and determined that he would support him.

But Albus obviously decided that he did indeed need Farid’s skills and that he was going to tell him everything, because he launched into Harry’s story. He told Farid absolutely everything, because it was obvious that the young man would accept no less. Never had Albus been so frank, even with him, he told Farid about the prophecy, how it had been made and how they had told Voldemort just part of it, hoping that he would indeed “mark his equal”, he told him how Severus had already been a spy by then and had just given Voldemort enough of the prophecy so that he would act, they had not realised that he would be so vicious and kill in the way that he had. 

But at least the little boy had been saved and placed with loving relatives, who had for his own good sent him to a family in the States, who had then in their turn apparently had him adopted by someone else. Severus who was watching Farid carefully was surprised to see tears spring into Farid’s eyes when Dumbledore spoke of the death of the Potters. This was the boy they were looking for, Dumbledore continued, he had a lightening bolt scar on his forehead where the killing curse had struck him, but he had survived, he was the only person ever to have survived such a thing. He was the only one who could kill Voldemort, but first, first they needed to destroy the Horcruxes.

Farid looked up as Albus finished talking, for the last wee while he had been staring at his lap and a single tear had made its way from the corner of his eye and was working its way down his cheek, he quickly brushed it aside and met Albus’ gaze coolly. 

Severus was amazed by how well Farid had understood what was being said, once or twice he had stopped Albus and asked something in rapid Kazakh, but mostly he had seemed to understand, Severus was impressed at how far Farid had come in English in the short time he had been with him, but he supposed the boy had spoken English up until the age of eight, so perhaps it was a combination of learning and remembering?

“I vill break two today, jes? I vill be mooch tired, sen and can sleep jes?”

Albus agreed that that would be okay, and he brought over two of the objects that Farid had identified the previous night, even though he had not known them to be Horcruxes then and Farid closed his eyes and concentrated hard, he raised his hands so that they were at opposite ends of the tray on which the objects were displayed, palms downwards. First one object rose and then the other and slowly at first and then faster and faster they began to spin. One was a locket heavy, ornate, the other a small mirror carved with a stylised bird. They began to glow orange, then red, then a bright, purifying white. So fast were they spinning now that they began to hum until suddenly the light seemed to explode from them throwing Severus and Albus backwards into the cushions of the furniture on which they were sitting. Farid did not move, instead he gazed steadily at them and said, “It is done,” before slumping in a dead faint.

Farid had slept for all of the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon.

And now the students were arriving. 

When Farid had awoken, Albus and he had explained to the boy why it was important that his slavery be kept a secret, it would jeopardise Severus position, if Voldemort knew about Farid, he would want him for himself and Severus would never allow that, but their were spies in the school, the children of death eaters who would report back if they were not careful, they told him that he should call Severus sir in public, but that they were free to do whatever they wished in private but that no one must know.

Then Albus had commented about how Sirius and Remus had tracked down the house in which the Potter child was supposed to be living, but that the boy was away till the end of the week and then he and Albus had had yet another furious row about Harry and Severus had said dreadful things about how the boy would come in, lord it over them all and probably be as spoilt and as useless as his father and when Severus had turned to Farid to drag him from the room he was surprised to see tears in his eyes again, but suspected that Potter’s story had touched him, but he did not know the family like Severus did, and Severus promised himself that he would not let Farid be treated by the son as he had been treated by the father and together they made their way downstairs to meet the new arrivals

Farid stood with professor McGonagall and a host of small children who he had been told were the first years, Albus was explaining about him, and how he had been rescued from the vampires, he did not say what had happened to Farid, merely that he had been found to be magical and was joining the school as an apprentice for the final year. 

One by one the small children made their way forward to sit under the hat, some of them were scared, one or two were crying and Farid bent down and comforted them, telling them that they would be fine, that no one would harm them until finally, when they had all been sorted it was Farid’s turn.

It was so hard for him to walk to the front of the hall. To be surrounded by so many people, more people than he had ever seen in his entire life that he could remember. And they were children too. Farid had not known many children in his life, he knew they broke easily the only ones that had come to the castle had died quickly, that he knew. But these children would not hurt him; they just looked at him and whispered to each other about him. 

Finally after what seemed forever he reached the little stool and sat down. The day had been a very strange one for Farid. He had found the answers to many of his questions. He knew now that his master was indeed the good man Farid had thought him to be, to spy like that, to be in the enemy camp like that took courage and he could admire that. He felt angry with Albus Grey Beard though, for what had happened to his parents, they had been in the way, of someone else’s war and they had died, and Farid knew that if they had not died, his life would have been very different indeed. 

He wondered what he would have been like if he had grown up as a loved child rather than a hated one, and then an abused slave. From Albus’ description his parents had been good people and had seemed not to be all bad, so Farid could not fully understand why his master hated his father, but that he did hate Farid’s father was apparent from the argument Master and Albus had had later in the day. Farid was determined that he would have to find out more, because if Harry Potter was the only one who could defeat the evil wizard that meant that he Farid had to do it and he was not sure how he felt about that at all.

A hat was placed on his head, an old raggedy hat, that seemed to be falling to pieces and Farid jumped violently when it spoke in his head, clearly so that he could understand every word and did not have to struggle or concentrate very hard.

“Oh my goodness,” said the hat, “What do we have here? You are quite old to be sorted are you not, and my goodness what a lot of secrets you hold. Half our world is looking for you is it not Mr Potter?”

Farid was ready to rip the hat from his head but it chuckled at him

“Don’t worry, child, your secret is safe with me, if they cannot see what is under their noses these clever wizards I’ll not tell them, it is your secret to share when you are ready to share it!”

But where to place you hhmmm? I think you have one of the most interesting minds I have ever seen, oh and what a heart! You are loyal, loyal to a fault you would sacrifice yourself in a moment for the ones you love. And you have a very good mind, bright and enquiring, merely unschooled. You are very cunning too, you could not have survived with out being a genius at hiding your secrets, you would do very well indeed in the house of the snake, it would be an easy decision Mr Potter were it not for one thing, I think you are the bravest child I have ever met, you have such courage and love, the heart of a lion. It had better be...

Gyffindor!”

The hall erupted in a chorus of whispers and comments and when Farid, looked back at the teacher's table all of them, including Albus looked suprised, but his master? Why Master's face was frozen in shock and Farid wondered why this should be.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Farid still stood in the middle of the hall; he simply did not know what to do next. He was now in something called Gryffindor, he did not really understand it, even though it had been explained, it seemed to him that to put all these children in different houses like Albus had said might somehow make them enemies like Master Yusuf had been with rival clans. Master had a snake on the crest that he wore on his robe, so Farid thought that maybe Master had something to do with the house of the snake that the hat had mentioned and did not like lions whatever they were, but Farid hoped that his master was not cross with him, because it had not been his choice, his choice would have been to stay with Master.

But when anytime in his life had Farid ever been given a choice really? So he squared his shoulders and said quite loudly to the nearest child.

“Scuse me, vere do I go now?” The hall fell silent and everyone looked at him, if Farid had not had the heart of a lion as the hat had said, he would have, at this point run back to Master and hidden his face in his robes, but he was determined to do a good job and make Master proud, so he just schooled his face to remain calm and waited for assistance.

A girl with a mass of curly hair got up from a nearby table and walked over to him then, holding out her hand as she moved towards him.

“Hello,” she said “My name is Hermione Granger, I’m Head Girl, come and sit by me, in Gryffindor.”

Farid looked down at her hand, he was not sure what he was meant to do with it. Quite often Master had taken his hand when they were in a hurry, running from the werewolves or dashing to Dumbledore’s office the previous night. Maybe they had to hurry somewhere? So Farid took the hand and held on tight. 

The girl looked a bit surprised, Farid thought that maybe this had been the wrong thing to do, but her hand was warm and soft, and he liked holding it, so he held on anyway. Slowly she led him to one of the four long tables, the one at which she had been seated just moments before and indicated that he should sit beside her.

Farid had never sat anywhere like this before, with all these other people, he was half tempted to go on his knees or curl up in a ball at someone’s feet but he knew this was the wrong thing to do, so instead he simply sat where he had been told, and waited to find out what he should do next. Everyone was staring and a boy with red hair was glaring at him, Farid wondered what he had done to upset the boy. So he smiled at him, he smiled at them all and said

“Chello my name is Farid!”

“We know, we heard Dumbledore” said a boy with sandy hair, “Sure are you not a bit old to be joining us, where have you been all these years?”

This comment elicited a snigger from some of the other boys at the table

But Farid could answer this one; Dumbledore had told him that it was okay to tell the others a bit about himself he had given him the words to use, and Farid knew that for some reason these children disliked him, he could read their opinions in their eyes, he was supposed to be friends with them though that’s what he had been told, so he carried on trying to befriend them as he had been instructed.

“I chave been with wampires in Kazakhstan, they rape me and keep me in cage for ten years, Professor Snape Siur che rescue me, Alboos Grey Beard say dyou would be my friends?” Farid said cheerfully

There was complete and utter silence, till after a moment the red haired boy stuttered, 

“Ttthat’s a lie! Don’t say things like that!”

“M’sorry cwhat is lie?”

“What you just said, you are lying.”

But Albus had come up behind them at last, he had obviously decided that he should be helping Farid, Master had to distance himself in public as they had told him would be the case,

So Farid turned to the headmaster, his tardy ally and asked him in Kazakh what the word “lie” meant. 

“It means that they think that you are not telling the truth Farid,” Albus said, astonishing the Gryffindors with his fluency in another language

“Which thing that I said do they think is a lie sir?” Farid asked, “the cage or the….” He paused for a moment and frowned he did not know the Kazakh word for rape, for as far as Farid and his masters had been concerned he had been a slave without the right to give or deny consent so had therefore never been 'raped' “….fucking, or Master, or that they would be my friends?”

Albus was used to the way that Farid expressed himself by now, so he merely turned to the Gryffindors who had been stunned back into complete silence – along with the majority of the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and even Slytherins, who had all been straining to hear what this strange new arrival had to say for himself and said.

“Farid asked, Mr Weasley what a lie was as he did not recognise the word in English and when I explained he asked me which part of his statement you thought was a lie, the cage or the rapes, the Professor’s rescue or the fact that I told him you would befriend him.

The red haired boy’s jaw dropped, “you mean he was telling the truth? About all of it?”

“Oh yes Mr Weasley, indeed he was.” The old man looked infinitely sad for a moment, he sighed deeply and continued “I am afraid that our Mr Prince has had a very hard time in his life, that is why I had hoped that you would be kind to him.”

Farid could not understand what had upset everyone so much, had he said the wrong thing? It was so difficult trying to be understood in another language, far harder than understanding it yourself. Farid thought he could follow most of what was being said now as long as people did not speak too fast. He almost always understood want Master wanted and he thought Master had a wonderful voice; it was rich and warm and made him tingle all the way to his toes. 

But he knew that name Weasley, wasn’t that the name of the little girl who died in the place that Master and Albus had described? The one killed by the bad wizard Tom? Albus had said that she had a brother at the school. Even though Farid had never really known his family, he knew about brothers and sisters. When he had first been with the vampires he had even missed the Dursleys, because they were better than what had happened to him at the hands of Yusuf, and he knew what family was about because he had seen the Dursleys together, and other families when he was small, children at school had had brothers and sisters, who had liked each other and fought sometimes and he had wished that he and Dudley had been like that. Families loved each other and missed each other when they were apart.

So he met the horrified gaze of the boy with the red hair and said “I cham sorry that dyou lose jour sister to evil vizard, dyou moost be very sad?” And tentatively, because he was not sure if it was right or not he held out his hand towards the boy.

The eyes of the other boy filled with tears for a moment, and he looked at Farid with the saddest look on his face, before taking his hand and shaking it firmly once.

Farid’s face broke into a smile, so that was what you did if someone held out their hand you didn’t hold it like he had with the curly girl, you moved it up and down, just once.

So still beaming at everyone Farid held out his hand to each of the stunned Gryffindors and they in turn took hold of his hand and shook it in return. Mostly giving him their names at the same time.

Farid was delighted, he was getting the hang of this making friends business he thought, but he knew he should thank the headmaster so he turned and said, in his best English

“Sank dyou Alboos Grey Beard I sink we is all friends now, jes?”

“Yes my boy,” Albus said with tears in his eyes “I think you are,” and he fixed his gaze on several of the young people sitting around the table, all of who could not quite meet it.

As Dumbledore moved away Farid thought now was the time to practice his manners that Master had been so careful to teach him.

“Scuse me?” He said to the boy he thought was called Nev ill “vould you pass ze zalt pleas?”

Neville picked up the condiment nearest to him and tentatively passed it across the table, “is it true?” He whispered, “that you were kept in a cage,”

Farid was already tucking into some nice crunchy orange things that he thought he had once before with master, Master had said they were called carrots. 

He knew it was bad to speak when your mouth was full because master had told him it was so he looked at the boy and merely nodded.

“That is so awful,” the girl named Hermione commented “poor you.”

Farid had finished his carrots by now so he just turned to her and said

“Oh no ze cage vas not so bad! It vas the beating and the fucking zat hurt mooch,” and he wondered why the boy called Nev ill seemed to be choking on the food that he had just put in his mouth. 

When the meal was finished Master came for him and Farid was delighted to see him, even if he did look a bit cross, Farid thought that Master was pretending not to like him in public, like he had said he would do, so he was careful to keep his eyes lowered, but he peeked at his new friends and gave them a smile as he left behind Master. Hermione, smiled back and waggled her hand at him, so he waggled his in return, and then had to practically run to keep up with Master, but he didn’t mind because he had done everything Master had asked him to do and he hoped that he was pleased with Farid.

Severus felt, disgruntled, cross and disgruntled. Farid was a dratted Gryffindor! Of course Severus was not that surprised, after all was that not where “The brave of heart” were meant to dwell and there was no denying that Farid _was_ incredibly brave. Severus had felt such pity, mingled with pride for the boy when he had been standing small and all alone in the centre of the Great Hall obviously wondering where he should go next, he had been immensely grateful to Miss Granger for coming to get him, she had confirmed his tentative decision to ask her to tutor Farid in reading. 

But for a moment there Severus had been worried. The Gryffindors had seemed quite hostile towards Farid and Severus had had to kick Albus under the table in order to gain his attention to send him to the rescue. He had not been able to hear what was being said from this distance, but judging from the shocked looks on the faces of the Gryffindors and knowing how candid his boy could be, Severus could make a shrewd guess. 

By the time they had left for the evening though he thought Farid had truly begun to win them over. Even Weasley, whom Severus found to be a most obnoxious boy seemed to have softened towards him, and Severus wondered what Farid might have said to win him over. The Weasley of first and second year had been a bouncy rather wayward child, but the death of his little sister had, unsurprisingly sobered him considerably and much of the time now he was somewhat surely Severus thought. But he had smiled at Farid when the boy had returned Hermione’s wave and Severus thought that that might be a good sign for Farid’s future acceptance amongst his fellow housemates. 

But Gryffindor, for Merlin’s sake was he doomed to fall for bloody Gryffindors for the rest of his days? He could not help but feel a bit grumpy, he was not pleased with himself, he knew he should try to conquer his emotions because he did not want Farid to witness his resentment, but he could feel it bubbling away below the surface, he had just hated Gryffindors for so long, that it had almost become a habit, ever since, well ever since James, as they walked towards the dungeons where Severus rooms were he could feel his mood darken and he just hoped he would not snap at his boy. 

But no sooner had he shut the door than he had an armful of naked, elated slave. Somewhere between jumping from the ground and landing in Severus arms with his legs wrapped around Severus’ waist and his hands linked behind Severus neck, Farid had vanished all his clothing. This was the sort of casual magic which thrilled him most about the boy, and the fact that he had given all of himself so freely to Severus.

He was kissing him passionately on his nose and his forehead he was so excited that Severus could just not be angry with him, though he might want to.

“Masteerr! Farid did good? Jes? Did good, jes?”

Severus could not help chuckling at the boy’s exuberance 

But Farid was looking at him quizzically, with his head on one side in that endearing way of his.

“Masteerr, cwhat is house of ze snake? Ze hat said I vould do vell zere?”

Severus was serious again for a moment, that is my house Farid the house of which I am in charge of. The hat said you would do well there?

“Jes, but ze hat said I chad the heart of a lion, cwhat is lion Masteerr?”

Severus felt desperately sad for a moment, when Farid asked such things it truly brought it home to him just how awful a time Farid had had in his life, he did not know what a lion was? He looked at his boy tenderly, “I think I have a book we can look at love,” he said, and he carried Farid through to the bedroom where he deposited him on the bed, returning almost immediately with a book of animals that he had had as a child, and he and Farid sat there for quite a while just looking through the pages whilst Farid laughed uproariously at some of the animals that he did not recall seeing before. And he had read to the boy about lions even trying out a roar, just to demonstrate what lions might sound like and then he had let himself be seduced by a playful Farid, who pretended to be a lion and eat him all up.

Later as he lay in bed with the young man wrapped around him he realised that he had been played by an expert, manipulated into acceptance of the hat’s choice for the boy by a very skilled professional, he would always think of lions with enormous affection from now on, such fun had he and Farid had and as he held his lionhearted boy in his arms he could not help but think that Farid might well have the heart of a bold Gryffindor, but he had the soul of a true Slytherin.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

It was Farid’s third potions lesson, for the last six days he seemed to have done very well settling in. The Slytherins were still very wary of him, unsure as to whether befriending him would be of use to them or not. It had been established that Farid was Severus’ potions apprentice, but the teacher treated him with coldness whenever he saw him in their presence, and wasn’t that getting harder by the day Severus thought to himself? 

Severus found it very hard to see Farid with the Gryffindors, they seemed to have taken him to their hearts like the sodding little heroes they were, give them someone they perceived as being some sort of victim and they went all protective and sweet. It did not help in Severus’ mind that Farid could read them so well, what for the boy had been a defense mechanism to keep him alive, certainly helped him here, as the Hufflepuffs were also absurdly protective too, they treated him like some sort of pet or mascot and oohhed and aahhed at all his efforts at just about everything. Even the Ravenclaws, cool-headed intellectuals that they were, had taken to Farid, as he was obviously very bright and would ask questions on just about every thing and anything. 

Farid also seemed to have befriended Draco Malfoy. The silver haired boy had been ostracised for nearly two years now, ever since his father had been captured at The Ministry of Magic trying to retrieve the prophecy that was about Harry Potter and Voldemort. He had not succeeded though, but had instead been imprisoned, and another Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange, had ended up going though the veil, which was a one-way doorway to the afterlife. Narcissa had been devastated, but Severus had been quite pleased, he had never liked Bella who had been behaving in a way that was evermore insane. Severus was sure that had she lived she would have dragged her nephew before Voldemort by now, and had him initiated and given some impossible task to perform but with both her and Lucius missing Severus was sure that at last the boy had a chance to avoid following in their footsteps.

He had had to be careful around Draco, he was his godson, but Severus did not trust him well enough to let him know what side he was really on, neither though did he or Dumbledore want to see this powerful young wizard turn dark. He had been a very brattish child, and had displayed arrogance and a belief in his own supremacy for much of his school days, but with his father’s pernicious influence removed Draco had lost ground as the nominal leader of Slytherin and had spent the previous year isolated and alone. Even his unbeaten record as seeker for the Slytherin team did not seem to endear him to his housemates. Crabbe and Goyle his erstwhile companions had not made it to eighth year but had left in sixth and Theodore Nott now wore the hypothetical crown that had once been Draco’s. Severus determined that he would ask Farid that night how they had become so friendly, because Draco had taken to tagging around after the Gryffindors and after a little bit of jostling and glaring the small group surrounding Farid had simply decided to ignore him, and he had been absorbed into their midst along with his boy. Severus smiled wryly to himself wondering if they realised how much of a leader Farid was, and how skilfully he managed them.

But now his boy looked at him from across his own classroom and Severus just wanted to cross the floor and embrace him and nuzzle his face in Farid’s hair, but the story that he and Albus had put out only told some of the truth. There was no hiding what had happened to Farid, but they told no one about his training or the fact that he had been given to Severus, it was too dangerous Severus believed, for anyone to even suspect. 

So in public Severus maintained his frosty demeanour towards him, and Farid played the game admirably keeping his face impassive whenever his master was around, and even allowing his eyes to go wide with a look of hurt surprise whenever Severus reprimanded him. Severus knew that it would take a lot more than the odd acerbic comment to bother the boy but he had had to reassure himself the first night that Farid was not actually really upset, so skilful had his wounded expression been. Farid had then hurried to tell Severus that his treatments and punishments had always been so much more severe than anything Severus was doing, even going so far as to detail some of them, so that that night in bed, Severus had found himself holding the peacefully sleeping man-child as tight as he could and allowing bitter tears of sorrow to fall for what had been done to the slave by the monsters who had held him captive for so long.

Farid stood now beside Hermione Granger, and Severus blessed her for the care she was taking of his boy. He had never liked the girl, thinking her all together too full of herself, but he had nevertheless called her into the potions room on the first morning of classes and told her that Farid was unable to read or write, he had asked he to tutor him and support him. He had been his usual cold sarcastic self, but he wondered if she had seen through his display as she looked at him shrewdly and promised that she would “Take care of Farid for you sir.”

“I don’t want you to take care of him Miss Granger, I merely want him kept out of my way, and to ensure that he manages in the class-room as Professor Dumbledore insists that he is able enough to attend!”

But she just smiled at him and assured him that Farid would be safe with her. Now and then she shot him curious looks as he went on with his business and he found it rather unnerving, he had no inkling why should find him so fascinating of late, so he snapped at her all the more and she just stared back at him steadily whenever he did so as if she were the keeper of some secret of which only she was aware.

Today they were making wound-cleaning potion and would move on to skele-gro later that month, this class, a mixture of NEWT level students were learning medicinal potions and Severus knew that Farid would have no problems with this particular potion as it had been one of the ones that they had first brewed together in the days before the students returned to school, and he also knew that Farid had an excellent memory and would remember the whole process for this particular potion. But the two students were working as a team, heads bent together, Hermione was reading out the potion ingredients whilst Farid found them and started to chop them carefully. 

He couldn’t help but stare at the boy for a moment or two, watching the play of light against his milky brown skin and the way that strands of his hair always seemed to worm its way free of whatever Farid used to tie it back, he liked it more like this though, as whilst he had to admit there was something rather exotic and sexy about the plaits he had once worn, Severus preferred his hair like this, he loved running his fingers through its velvety softness and winding it round his hand when he made love to the boy. When Farid glanced up at him briefly and gave him the tiniest of smiles Severus realised that he had been staring too long and turned away to watch someone else instead.

Farid was just the tiniest bit worried, he watched his master scrutinise him and turn away and wished he could go up to him and give him a hug. Farid missed getting hugs whenever he needed them. He had never had such luxury in all of his life before but he truly felt his master had spoilt him now. Because Severus had never turned him away from comfort, not once, since they had been together. He seemed to Farid like a rock that he could cling to in a storm and he really wished he could go to him now. What Draco had just told him had worried him and he wanted to tell his master. But Farid would no more dream of disobeying Severus than he would fly to the moon. Master had told him to stay away unless they were in his quarters and befriend the other children and so that was what Farid did.

He had first found the blonde boy in the Quidditch shed crying to himself and hunched over a broom. Ron had been trying to instruct Farid on what Quidditch was all about and had spent many hours drawing pictures to illustrate how the game was played even taking him to the shed where the brooms were kept to let Farid see a real life broom. Farid had very vague memories of flying away from the werewolves but these memories were extremely fuzzy as he had been barely conscious at the time, but later Ron had realised that he had forgotten his transfiguration textbook having left it behind in the broom shed, Farid quick as he was when it came to matters of the flesh could see at once that Ron had wanted to spend the next hour or so snogging Hermione, smiled to himself and offered to fetch it for him.

Ron had been very grateful indeed and Farid had happily scampered off glad to leave his two new friends time to themselves, he really appreciated the way they looked after him as after the first night he had rarely been away from them during the day, they helped him with classes took him wherever he needed to go and generally took care of whatever he needed.

He did not know then what the blonde boy’s name had been but he did feel sorry for him, the boy seemed lost and lonely and Farid knew what that felt like, he also reminded Farid a bit of a boy who had shared his prison a few years ago for a short while, he had never found out what had happened to him but suspected that one of the vampires had killed him as he had heard his screams one night and then never seen him again. Farid had been unable to help him, but perhaps he could help this boy instead.

“Chello,” he said, “Cwhy dyou cry boy?” The other young man started at Farid’s words he obviously had not heard Farid come in, but he twisted his lips into a sneer and said,

“What business is it of yours, why do you care?”

So Farid told him, “Dyou remind me of other boy I knew, che was killed, chis name vas Rudy, dyou look a bit like chim I sink. I could not chelp chim, but help dyou may be?”

The other boy looked astonished “Oh,” he said and then all in a rush before he could lose his courage, “Were you really raped and held prisoner by vampires and rescued by Professor Snape?”

“Jes.” Said Farid

“Oh,” said the boy again.

Farid held out his hand and said, “My name is Farid, dyou vant to be my friend?”

“Draco Malfoy, how do you do?”

They shook hands and then Draco said sadly

“You can’t be friends with me, you are a Gryffindor and they hate me,” and then more quietly,” they all hate me; they broke my broom you know? Well the Gryffindors didn’t, I think it was some of the Slytherins.”

And he told Farid all about the previous two years, the way that his housemates had turned against him, the way that his father had been imprisoned and how much of his family fortunes had been confiscated and now he and his mother struggled to make ends meet sometimes these days. And how the broom, which had been destroyed, had been a gift from his father, years ago when he was in second year. When he had finished he turned to the smaller boy who was sitting beside him on the dusty floor of the shed, “ none of this sounds very bad after what you have been through in your life does it?”

But Farid smiled at him, sometimes after he had been fucked by one or other of his master’s friends or visitors Farid had had to listen to their tales of woe, how hard their lives had been, how much they were misunderstood, how they deserved much more than they had, he had become a good listener, it was part of his charm and he truly did feel sorry for Draco, 

“My troubles, jo not make jours any less my friend,” He said, smiling at the blonde boy. “Can dyou show me jour broken broom?”

Draco had been cradling it, the sticks that had made up the once proud tail had been torn and snapped and the handle was broken in two, Farid took it gently and ran his hands over it once. The broken sticks rejoined and straightened themselves and then Farid placed the two broken bits of the handle together and the broom was instantly as good as new.

Draco’s eyes grew wide. “How did you do that?” He breathed

And Farid had smiled at him artlessly and said “Magic!”

It had been at least another day before his new friend joined with his friends of slightly longer standing though. They were reluctant to have him with them, but Farid had pleaded and begged and they had finally acquiesced, albeit slightly reluctantly. He liked the other students quite a lot, so it was no hardship to make them his friends and spend time with them. In fact it had been perhaps one of the most interesting weeks of Farid’s life so far. Farid had never been around young people before and he knew that they pitied him and even felt protective of him, his innocence of the world made him seem younger than his years and his height and lack of English skills merely enhanced that opinion Farid knew. But he also knew that not one of these bright-eyed happy children would survive longer than a week if Yusuf took them. 

Farid did not think this out of egotism; he just knew his own capabilities very well he knew that he was a pragmatist, even if he did not know how to say the word, and a survivor with a large amount of inner strength. He had also been very poorly treated as a small child and he knew that in a strange way that had helped him survive the last ten years, he was very tough in many ways. But he had a very soft heart, and was always ready to listen to others, and it was this aspect of his character perhaps that had perhaps enabled him to seem as unaffected by his ordeal as he did, and maybe it was the sweetness in his character which drew others to him in the way that they were.

But most of the time he tried not to think about the past, he loved his master and took joy in every new day, Farid also loved this world and knew that he would rather die than go back to the old one, he would do almost anything that his master or Albus asked of him if they did not send him back, although Farid was not stupid and did not plan on telling the old wizard that. It truly seemed to him at least that for the first time in his entire life Farid Prince, also known as Harry Potter, at least to a strange silver wizard and a raggy old hat was happy at last.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

It had been the day after the incident in the shed that Draco had come up to Farid after charms class and offered to take him flying. Farid was a bit wary of charms class since the first day. He had never used his wand before, and on his first morning Severus had helped him get ready, brushed down his robes, the ones they had bought that excruciating day in Madam Malkin’s tucked a clean hanky in his pocket and given him a gentle kiss on his forehead. Then Master had given him his wand. Farid felt particularly nervous about this piece of magical equipment as he had never needed one before and he remembered what the silver wizard had said about his wand being brothers with the one that had caused his disguised scar and that frightened him. 

He had lifted the magical instrument rather awkwardly when tiny Professor Flitwick had asked him to do so. He had been given a feather and told the spell to make it fly into the air. “The incantation Mr Prince is _Wingardium Leviosa_ Farid nodded and said the words in his very best English but nothing happened, so Hermione had taken her wand showed him how to hold his properly and he had said the incantation once again. This time Farid had been successful, so successful that the feather flew up in the air so fast and with such force that it made a hole not only in the ceiling of the charms classroom but through the room above and out through the castle roof so that the class could see the sky. “Fecking Hell, would you look at that?” said the sandy haired boy from the night before, 

“Language Mr Finnegan,” Flitwick commented as he drifted over to where he and Farid sat though on looking up he said, “Although I do see what you mean!” By the end of that session Farid had managed to float all the desks at a height of several feet above the classroom floor with the students still sitting at them, and most of his newfound friends were regarding him with something akin to awe, Farid had blushed, when they had stared at him and from then on he and Severus had practiced hard to ensure that Farid was able to regulate the amount of magic he released into his wand. 

However, this development was not before he had transformed a leather shoe into a herd of cows which had ended up on one of the outlying fields where they were even now producing copious amounts of milk and conjure a Patronus of such unearthly brightness that it had blinded the class for an hour and no one had been able to tell what it was. Most people flinched slightly now if Farid produced his wand so he tried to keep it hidden whenever he could.

When Draco had come up to Farid, all alone, looking nervous but with his chin held high Ron had sneered at the silver haired Slytherin and said 

“Do you seriously think we’re going to let Farid go with you? You obnoxious trainee Death Eater!”

But Farid ever the peacemaker had stopped him there.

“I jo vant to go fly vith Drraaco Rron. Pleas come too and vatch, Jes?”

And Ron had reluctantly agreed, glaring at Draco all the while. The three boys had trooped off to the quidditch pitch with Farid chattering about flying and how he could not wait to try it and the other two making faces at each other behind Farid’s back, until he told them to 

“Stop behaving like liddle children!” Earning a look of surprise from them both.

Ron and Draco insisted on demonstrating to Farid how brooms flew, kicking off the ground and flying above him in lazy circles still glaring at each other and Farid stood below them watching them over his head with a look of wonder in his eyes. They almost came to blows over whose broom Farid would try first, but Ron acquiesced easily enough when he heard the story of how Draco’s broom had been broken and then mended by Farid. He had looked at Draco shamefacedly then and muttered, “That’s terrible, sorry about that!” Before blushing a deep brick red and looking away.

So Farid had tried Draco’s Nimbus 2001. He had copied the blonde haired boy’s actions, kicking off the ground just like he had and finding himself rising slowly into the air. First he tried copying the lazy circles that the boys had traced but found himself getting bolder and bolder in his movements, he couldn’t help himself but he had to go higher, from here he felt like he could see the whole world and just for a wee while Farid forgot about everything and just flew for the very pleasure it gave him, he did not know how long he had been up there, time really didn’t seem important at all. 

He loved the feeling of the wind in his hair and against his cheeks, he loved the stillness and the peace and he loved the fact, that for the first time ever as far as he could remember he made the decisions and whatever happened up here whatever choice he made was up to him and nobody else. It was so great, so wonderful that he couldn’t help himself, he took both his hands from the broom and held his arms wide above his head and flew a whole circle of the quidditch pitch yelling his joy to the wind, until finally he knew it was time to go back and had pointed the tip of the broom to the ground plunging below before pulling up at the last moment and landing in front of his two new friends with an enormous grin on his face.

He was so happy, so elated that he could not remember the words he wanted to use in English so instead he had rushed over to his friends chattering to them in rabid Kazakh, about how wonderful flying was and how he had to try it again and please would they let him and wait till he told Master! Only to find himself being lifted off his feet and swung around by an elated Ron who was jumping around and bellowing at the top of his voice.

“That was bloody brilliant you sodding beauty! Did you see that Malfoy, did you see him fly? We have our seeker, no one could beat that not even you!”

And Draco had smiled back in return and had said something about it being about time some of his fellow housemates got their arses kicked and found himself being crushed in the red haired Gryffindors arms too, and somehow after that Draco found that he was a lot more accepted by the house of the lion whenever he wished to trail along behind them.

That evening Farid had been full of his adventure on the broom and Severus had listened to him babble on half in English half in Kazakh as he just did not have enough words in his new language to express the joy that he felt

And now watching him in the potions class speaking quietly to Hermione as they prepared the potion Severus could not help smirking to himself as he remembered the thank you that Farid had given him the next night when he had come back from classes to find a shiny new Firebolt propped against the sofa in the living room. Farid had thanked him every night since and had begged his master to let him go flying and Severus seeing the overwhelming joy that this freedom brought to the boy knew that he would never be able to refuse him the chance to fly, even if it did mean the loss of the Quidditch Cup from Slytherin this year.

Potions class was ending for the day Severus went round each of the cauldrons checking that potions had been correctly brewed, which of course they had this being a second year NEWT class, when he got to Farid and Hermione’s workstation he could see that his boy looked anxious, so loudly, in front of the class, he told Farid to stay behind for a moment and dismissed the others.

Once the room was empty, Severus spelled the door for silence and turned to look at Farid. The boy was leaning against his desk with his head down, chewing at his lower lip.

“Alright, my own,” Severus asked, “What is wrong?”

Farid looked at him with large worried eyes.

“It is Drraaco Masteerr,” He answered, “Che say that some of ze Slytherins zey sink somesink strange. Nott, chis fazer che spend time vith wampires and che know about slaves, how ve is trained, zey are vondering if I belongs to dyou”

Severus felt cold all over. He had been worried for sometime about Farid’s public displays of magic, he knew that he and Albus should have warned the boy to keep his secrets close, but he suspected that once Farid had let his magic loose, having been suppressed for so long, he was finding it hard to control the strength of it. Over the last three days Farid and he had practiced wand control after dinner in Severus’ chambers but was it too little too late? The whole school had seen Farid’s power and while Voldemort thought that the boy was a pet of Dumbledore’s it did not matter too much. But if he knew, if he even suspected that the boy belonged to him, then he would want him packaged up and delivered, and no excuses would be accepted.

Voldemort would have no problems making the boy his, and if Severus protested then he would be dispensed with, permanently. 

“Masteerr?” Farid said anxiously

Severus looked down at him tenderly; the boy had already been through so much. In the last few days Severus had watched him blossom and grow, seen him embrace the magical world and make friends and build alliances when he so easily could have sunk without trace in this world. Part of him, a part that he ruthlessly tried to squash, wanted Farid to turn to him, need him before anyone else. But wasn’t that what the boy was doing now, turning to him with his worries? What would they do if the Dark Lord found out the truth? Severus would kill the boy himself before allowing that vicious monster to get his hands on Farid. What would his newfound friends say if they found out that Farid was a slave? Severus hoped that they would be understanding, still stay close to him, because he worried about how rejection would hurt him. Severus resolved to discuss this with Albus over lunch, but right now the boy needed reassurance, so he leaned down and kissed Farid gently on the nose and told him that everything would be alright, and that Farid was a good boy for telling him. Then he sent him off to join the other students for the midday meal, and Severus was relieved to see that Hermione and Draco were waiting outside the door to walk him down.

Severus followed them. He kept a close eye on Draco as he walked because he realised as a Slytherin himself, that if Draco had warned Farid what the others were saying then he also suspected the truth himself. But did that also mean that Draco suspected the truth about Severus, because surely he realised that a loyal Death Eater would have turned the boy over to Voldemort at once and not have kept him hidden away as Severus had done?

So deep in thought was he that he did not notice the commotion until he reached the dining hall. The children were gathered in a large group chattering excitedly, their favourite teacher had returned Remus Lupin, DADA Professor, beloved of all students.

But if the werewolf had returned then so had Black. His eyes searched the room for a sign of his worst enemy and he saw him almost at once standing to one side gesturing wildly to Dumbledore. The headmaster held up his hands in supplication and together he, Black and Lupin swept from the room in the direction of Albus’ office but the three men were alone, there was absolutely no sign as yet of a dark haired, green eyed boy.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

 

Farid crept up towards the headmaster’s office following his master. Severus had swept from the Great Hall cloak billowing behind him in pursuit of the two newcomers and Farid could see that he was upset. The gargoyle had moved aside at his arrival as it always did and Farid curled himself on the top step, just outside the door. In Farid’s experience doors were very rarely barred to slaves as they were of no importance and could not speak their master’s secrets anyway but he did not know how things were here, everything still seemed so strange in many ways.

But Master was upset and Farid needed to know why, so that he could comfort him, so he had said goodbye to the others and followed on behind. But with the shouting, the anger and the magical energy crackling in the air he could not seem to screw up enough courage to go inside the room.

The men in Dumbledore’s office were bellowing at one another savagely ripping at each other like a pack of dogs. The only one of the four that did not seem to raise his voice was Dumbledore but he just seemed infinitely sad.

Farid heard Master’s voice rising loudly above the others and he listened hard.

“…. ing obvious that the boy is not going to turn up now, all that time, blast him, nearly six months wasted on a wild goose chase! 

“You are just bitter Snivellus because this is James’ son we have been looking for and you were always jealous of him,” A man’s voice heated and refined turning on his master.

“Calm down Sirius and you too Severus, we are all disappointed but it does not serve us well if we start tearing each other apart.”

“Well said, Remus!” Dumbledore again. “I know we are disappointed, we are all terribly disappointed but we have to keep trying as Harry is the only one who can save us, and now that Severus has found Farid we have destroyed all the Horcruxes bar the snake, Tom finally can be killed!”

And how do we know that this _find_ of Snape’s can be trusted Albus, that he isn’t about to go trundling off to the Dark Lord with tales of Horcruxes and how we can’t find Harry?” The shouty man was shouting again, louder than ever

“Farid is a slave, he is bound to Severus and he is very loyal.”

“A slave, some little whore who has been waggling his arse for vampires for god knows how long, how do you know we can trust him? For all we know he has been planted by Voldemort, you know what Snape’s like, easy prey, can’t keep his dick in his trousers!”

“HOW DARE YOU…” Master’s voice, very angry

“Sirius please, there is no need for such language, or such personal insults, we need to know what to do about Harry, were there no more leads, did they know nothing these people?”

The quieter man was speaking again, “they had a child living with them all right, well a young man, English originally but he was most assuredly not Harry, Fawkes checked. Not only were his eyes blue and his forehead without a scar but he had no magic, none whatsoever and from all the reports we’d had from Lily and James, Harry was very magical indeed. No we must keep trying.”

“What is the point?” Master again, “we have been looking for the past seven years almost, we haven’t found him yet, those muggles have to be lying about the Potter boy going to America, I should go, find the truth. They will not fool me with their lies.” This last was said through clenched teeth.

Farid knew that it was the time to tell everyone who he was, he wanted to tell Master first but these men were so angry, maybe he should go in and ask to speak to Master and then he could explain to Albus and maybe just, maybe master would forgive him and not hate him. His heart felt like it was about to break but he forced himself to stand on shaky legs and lifted his fist to bang on the door.

“You are glad we couldn’t find him aren’t you Snivellus? Cause that means you can continue your so oh so important spying?” The shouty man was saying in a scathing way.

But Master wasn’t shouting now “You are so wrong Black,” This last word spat out as if it tasted disgusting “I want this war over as much, if not more than you do. I would be delighted if you found the bloody boy as I have missed having a Potter to hate!”

He wrenched open the door, to be met by a stunned Farid, grabbing the boy’s arm which was raised, obviously he had been going to knock the door he rushed off down the stairs with the boy running behind him, along the corridor only to have his flight halted by the sheer mass of students pouring out of the hall after lunch.

But Black had pursued them, and Dumbledore and Lupin followed him closely. 

“Don’t you turn away from me you fucking coward!” Black was shouting, the children stopped in their progress and turned to look at the two men and the interesting spectacle they presented, and there trapped between them, helpless to speak or get away was Farid.

Black’s face was close to Severus’s now but Severus had pushed Farid behind him, desperately trying to protect him from the furious tirade that Black was about to unleash. He should have stayed in Dumbledore’s office, he realised too late, this area was too public and Black was too angry, and therefore likely to be indiscrete, Farid obviously thought so as well as he had closed his eyes and was waiting, fearfully for what was to come.

“So is this him then, your little fuck toy? We can’t find Harry anywhere but you don’t care, you are glad, you hate the Potters so much don’t you? Who needs Harry Potter? We do you fucking moron! But you don’t care do you? You are so fucking blinded by your own hate! You don’t care that our world is going to hell because you are having far too much fun playing with your catamite. You must love sticking your cock up his pretty little arse do you Snivellus? 

First you trailed after Lily. Then Frank Longbottom then finally James, and they all turned you down, because you are an ugly, greasy little shit! So you went and found a slave who can’t refuse if you want him to suck your cock! Is he well trained Snape, does he call you Master when you fuck him and make you feel like a big man, instead of the pathetic little spy that you are?”

There was total silence.

Dumbledore said in horror, “Sirius how could you?”

And the blood drained from Black’s face as he belatedly seemed to realise where he was and what he had just said.

Severus turned on him.

“You fucking fool,” he screeched "do you not realise you have just signed not only my death warrant but his as well?"

Severus was shaking with anger

“Oh shit!” Black said I’m…so sor”

“Don’t you dare, Black, don’t you speak to me. Do you know what he has been through? How hard I have tried to protect him?” Severus was beside him self with agitation he reached urgently behind him to find Farid, but the slave was gone. Severus had been so focused, so intent on what Black had been saying that he had not noticed him slip away. 

But Theodore Nott and three of his seventh year cronies had.

Farid ran, he was sobbing, he had failed. Master had said not to let anyone know what he was and now the whole school knew. Everyone knew. And Farid realised that it was all his fault! If only he had gone in to the office, then Master would not have been in the hall, but when he had heard his master’s final words he had frozen. Master had missed having a Potter to hate. Farid was frantic, desperate he just did not know what to do, the strangeness, the worry of the last few weeks was so outside his experience and sometimes he almost missed the predictability of his old life, but at the same time he was absolutely terrified that Master would now send him back. He had failed in the one thing he had been told to do and not only that but all this time he had been the boy that his master hated more than he hated anyone.

Someone was calling him, so he stopped and turned around, only to see that it was the Slytherin that Draco had warned him about, Nott. He and two friends had caught up with him, they were panting, out of breath, but even though he was very fast, they had caught up with him at last.

Farid was terrified, he could smell their arousal, he knew that tang well enough now, knew what they wanted from him. Nott came up to him and firmly pushed him against the wall. “So you are a little fuck toy after all?” He sneered, wrapping his hand in Farid’s long plait and winding it securely like Master did sometimes he pulled it tight and wrenched Farid’s head back so that he was looking up into Nott’s face “I bet you are very skilled at sucking cock aren’t you, why don’t you show me? Because I bet your master won’t want you now that the whole school knows what a dirty little whore you are, and if you please me, maybe, just maybe I won’t let him send you back!” And slowly but firmly he began to force Farid to his knees.

Severus was panicking, he did not know which way the boy had gone. Dumbledore took charge of the situation, “start looking children" he said, calmly "Farid is missing and after that little incident he is bound to be upset, please help us find him.”

The students began to break up into little groups and drift away from the hall, some seemed to be looking for the lost boy others were more shocked by what they had witnessed and seemed intent on discussing it.

Just then Hermione came over to join the group, looking at Severus with a pleading look on her face “Professor,” she said, “I need to speak to you, urgently. Are you really looking for Harry Potter?"

Severus snapped at her, “Miss Granger, Farid is upset and I have to find him. I don’t have time to discuss this now.”

“I’m sorry Sir, but if you do hate Harry Potter so much then there is almost certainly more than one reason why Farid is so upset.”

“Granger what on earth are you talking about? He hissed, Albus, Black and Lupin had all turned to look at the girl now, and she quailed a bit under their intense scrutiny, but Hermione was in Gryffindor for a reason and she was not about to give up now. “Please, Sir.” she said somewhat scathingly he thought. “Ron’s parents are..” and now she whispered “ _with the old crowd_. We know you have been looking for Harry Potter, and I have had my suspicions for a while, Farid is after all so powerful magically..”

“Granger, will you get to the point before you find yourself in detention until you are forty-five!”

Hermione swallowed, 

“Please do go on Miss Granger,” said Dumbledore quietly 

“This morning when I was giving Farid his reading lesson, he had been progressing so well, he had learned his letters and we had practiced writing them, so today I thought we would try writing his name. He said he remembered writing his name before, when he lived with his aunt and uncle, so I suggested that he write it out for me to show me, we didn’t have time to discuss it because just after Draco came in and I wanted to ask him about it when we were alone, but….” And she reached her hand into the pocket of her robe, to bring it out seconds later clutching a bit of paper, which she handed to Severus there was just one word on the paper roughly printed in block capitals

_H A R R Y_.

“Professor! We’ve found him, but we can’t get close he’s in the DADA classroom." It was Ron and Neville, rushing up, out of breath, looking eager and pleased with themselves for having found the lost boy.

He shoved the paper into Albus’ hands and Severus ran, he did not care who was behind him, he knew that he had to get to Farid. To hold him, comfort him find out the truth.

Minutes later he reached the door of the second floor classroom, outside was Theodore Nott with his nose bleeding clutching his private parts. “Little bastard’s gone mad!” He spat, “I was only trying to help him.” Severus grabbed the boy by the lapel of his robes, 

“Are you sure you weren’t trying to help yourself Nott?” Severus hissed, “Be very careful, very careful indeed boy! You do not touch what is mine!” He shoved the boy to one side and took a deep breath.

Slowly, tentatively he opened the door to the classroom and almost immediately jumped back as a large tank of water containing a very surprised looking Grindylow went sailing past. He was despite his worry quite delighted to see that it completely drenched Black as it flew past. 

The classroom was full of things flying around, a gramophone was playing a record, a muggle phone was ringing, a cage full of Cornish Pixies was whirling by.

“Farid stop. Stop now. Its Master!”

All at once everything stopped and fell and a small, frightened voice said tremulously 

“Masteerr?”

“Let me in,” said Black, "if he is Harry Potter he is my godson, I have the right, let me by.” But Dumbledore held his arms in a surprisingly firm grip, 

“I think you have done enough damage for one day Sirius, don’t you? I think we should leave Severus and Farid alone for a while. Let us wait down the corridor, I am sure we can speak to him later, if Severus agrees.”

The headmaster led Black away then, protesting loudly, but before he left he turned to Severus and said, “Be gentle with him Severus, he needs your support and if what Miss Granger suspects is indeed true, then we need him!”

Severus was annoyed. Farid was his. He had found him, rescued him. He was not planning on sharing him with anyone and what Granger suspected could not be true, surely not. But then he thought back to the way Farid had behaved whenever Harry Potter’s name had been mentioned and his heart sank. If Farid was Potter, then he would have been too scared to tell him, just like he had been too sacred to mention his magic at first and just where did all that powerful magic come from anyway? He had not really thought about it before, but the power that Farid displayed that would fit with the little they knew about the missing Potter boy. Severus, not a man known for his tact and diplomacy swallowed hard and walked slowly into the DADA classroom.

“Farid?” He could not see the boy at first as the classroom was in complete disarray, instead he followed the sound of the soft sobbing and Severus was almost overcome, whatever, whoever this boy was, he was still Farid, Severus’s Farid, and he relied on Severus to take care of him. So he got a grip of himself, swallowed his prejudices, tamped down his anger and got on his hands and knees to crawl under the desk where he had finally spotted the boy.

“Ssshh, my own. It is alright, I am not cross with you.” The boy was curled up in a little ball, pressed into the corner as far as he could get, he peeked out at Severus though.

“Pleas Masteerr, jon’t send me back, M’sorry, so sorry!”

Severus was horrified; Farid thought he would be sent back? No wonder he was so scared

“Oh my love, don’t worry, I won’t send you back. Farid? You will never, ever, ever go back there. Whatever happens, never back there to Yusuf!”

The boy let out another sob, and literally threw himself at Severus, shaking with emotion, overcome by the fear, the terror that he had been feeling.

“Sank dyou, sank dyou, not send me back.”

And for a while they just sat there. Farid snuggled in Severus’s lap muttering about Nott, and letting his master down and being a whore, and Severus’ heart very nearly broke in two, he loved this boy so much, felt so protective of him, but what if he was Harry Potter? What would happen then?

But he had to know, had to find out so he said as gently as he could. “Why did you not tell me Farid? Why didn’t you tell me who you are?”

Farid froze and then turned fear filled eyes up to his master’s face.

“I jidn’t know, Masteerr” He whispered “I’m sorry, and cwhen I jid, I jidn’t vant dyou to chate me. Pleas jon’t chate me Master!”

Severus felt like his body had turned to lead. In his arms, the boy who had shared his bed, the boy he had tied up and raped and fucked almost daily since he had found him, the boy he had enslaved was the saviour of the wizarding world. What the fuck was he going to do now? But he placed a gentle kiss on Farid, no Harry’s, head and said

“I won’t hate you love, just show me.”

And all at once Farid’s skin was paler, cheeks rosie from all the flying he had done in the last few days, on his forehead there was a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt, and his eyes, why his eyes were not brown at all but a vibrant emerald green.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

 

Severus did not know how long they sat there, he and Farid. Long enough that his legs began to cramp and a dull ache began to make itself felt in his lower back, Farid had fallen asleep curled half onto Severus’s lap, half on the floor, and Severus just sat there stroking his hair. Farid’s hair had not changed it was as soft and as dark as it had ever been and just as wild. He marvelled as he sat there that his boy seemed to be able fall asleep just about anywhere, almost catlike he was in some ways, his little Gryffindor kitten, and didn’t those stunning eyes just add to that effect? 

He supposed that Farid had had to learn to grab sleep whenever it came but even in sleep Farid did not seem to forget what he had been trained for, because curled as he was against his master, there was no defense in his pose. Severus could have had access to any part of Farid that he wanted, and sometimes he just wished that Farid lay like that because he trusted Severus and not because of whatever vicious training that had taught him that he was not allowed to defend himself against his master and whatever physical plunder might be inflicted, ever.

Now that the glamour was off Severus could see the dark circles under Farid’s eyes, they had been there for a while he suspected but when Farid’s skin had been darker they had been far less noticeable but he wondered what other scars the glamour had been hiding all this time. He had felt them sometimes, raised skin here and there on Farid’s otherwise smooth skin, there was one spot in particular on Farid’s right hip that piqued his curiosity and he wondered how the boy had come by them. Yusuf said he had had scars as a small child but Severus also wondered if he just meant the one on his forehead and whether the boy had gained many scars in his time with the vampires. Right now his particularly famous scar was livid red and looked very sore, had it been this way for a while too?

The was a soft knock at the door startling him out of his musings and he looked up to see Albus peeking around the entrance at him.

“Severus? He asked tentatively, “Is every thing okay? Can we come in?”

Severus sighed deeply he had known that it could not last this time when he was trying to come to terms with the day’s revelations, the last precious time together he and his Farid. The world was already battering at their door and he knew now that the secret was out that there was no way on earth that their relationship could continue as it had been before. They would take Farid away from him, train him to defeat Voldemort and present him with all the Potter gold that was rumoured to lie waiting in a Gringotts vault. And Severus felt quite desperate right then, he almost wanted to take his boy and run away but that was not possible, Harry was needed and when Harry discovered the world that awaited him, he would not want to stay with Severus, bond or no bond. So although he wanted to scream at the intruders to leave them alone, leave them in peace, he nodded anyway, albeit reluctantly.

“Can Sirius come in too?” Albus queried.

“If he thinks he can behave himself,” he replied dryly.

Soon Albus, Lupin and Black had joined him in the wrecked classroom.

“Shit, just look at it, did the boy do all this?” Sirius asked gesturing at the mess that surrounded him

“He was very frightened,” Severus, said defensively “He thought that our row was his fault and that we’re going to send him back to Yusuf,” 

Albus tutted sadly at this

“And some of the other boys, thought he might like to play with them, as you outed him to the whole school so effectively!”

Black at least had the grace to look somewhat ashamed of himself

“Well I’m sorry about that, I thought he was some little whore that you picked up..”

But he did not finish that last sentence as he found his gaze was met and held by a pair of deep green eyes. He, Lupin and Albus all gasped when they saw Farid’s face for the first time.

“But I cham a liddle cwhore Mr Black!” He said coldly “I take it up ze ass, and suck my master’s cock ven I am told to, just like dyou say, that is vat cwhore jo is it not?”

Black’s mouth dropped open

“Harry!” said Dumbledore; his eyes were twinkling so madly that they might just explode. He was crouching down to be on a level with them both, and it was certainly unusual to see the 150 year old wizard, sitting on the floor, eye to eye with him and Farid, looking for all the world like a very hairy five-year-old. Black and Lupin very quickly followed his example and Severus nearly chuckled, so surreal did they all look sitting cross legged, in the middle of a totally wrecked DADA classroom.

“My boy,” he continued, “I am so pleased that we have found you at last!”

“Dyou jid not find me Alboos Grey Beard my masteerr jid, I stay wiz chim, jes?

This time it really was all Severus could do not to laugh out loud, now that the glamour had gone anyone could see that Farid _Harry_ had his mother’s eyes and they were flashing with something indefinable right now, anger, anxiety, fear, determination? Severus was not sure but Farid’s hand had slipped into his and he held it tightly as if he might never let go.

Then those green eyes turned to look at him and Severus thought that he might melt under the hot viridian glow.

“I may stay Masteerr? Jes?”

Severus felt relief wash over him, he was not sure what the hell was going to happen next but Farid at least wanted to stay with him.

He smiled at the boy and nodded once.

And it was as if someone had turned on the sun Farid glowed with joy, and he leaned over and placed a kiss on his master’s lips, lifting his eyes once as if to ask permission.

Black seemed to be choking.

“I am sorry about ze classroom, Albus Grey Beard, I vas very frighted! I zought I moost go back,” He shuddered, and looked at Albus, “I cannot go back I vould die before zat.”

The twinkle in Albus’s eyes had dimmed some, and they sparkled with something else this time. Tears perhaps? Severus wondered if anyone or anything had ever brought Albus as close to weeping in recent years, as Farid seemed to manage on an almost daily basis.

“We would never, ever do that my boy, you need never worry about seeing Yusuf again, but we do need to talk, perhaps we can go somewhere a little less…”

Farid hung his head

“M’sorry Suir, I make good,” he idly waved one hand in the general direction of the destroyed items littering the floor and instantly everything was restored.

“Oh my good God!” Lupin said in astonishment.

“Fucking Hell!” Said Black

Farid just looked at them once more with his steady gaze and said

“Ve stay chere for a vhile pleas Alboos? My friends zey know everyzing now they might chate me.”

Black looked completely stricken

“I am so sorry Hhharry,” he said stumbling over his words in an uncharacteristic way 

“Jo not be, It is true! I am a slave, and maybe I am ze uder zings too,” He looked down sadly and shrugged his shoulders, “But I vould chave liked to tell zem.”

This time Black seemed to crumple, and Severus, almost felt sorry for him. Almost. The stupid fool had told the entire school about him and Farid, but also about his spying activities and he speculated about how long before these little nuggets of information made their way back to Voldemort.

Albus spoke then, “well if we are to stay here we had better get a bit more comfortable.” This time the headmaster conjured a sofa, and some chairs although it seemed to take him longer than it might have taken Farid.

Albus almost seemed to be reading Severus thoughts because he said then

“Harry, everyone knows who you are, or at least who we suspect you are.” 

Farid looked back at him seemingly unruffled, an expression of mild curiosity on his face.

Severus was stunned, Farid did not seem to care about this at all, he wondered what his boy, because he was still _his_ boy, he had made that pretty clear, was thinking.

But what Albus had just said seemed to sink in and he exploded then. “But how the hell does everyone know, Albus? I thought it would come out soon, but not yet, Miss Granger just told us, how does everyone know?”

“Well I might have shouted something about it being a possibility,” Black muttered. It was all Severus could do at that point not get up and hit the stupid fool, but Albus held up a hand in his direction as if asking for peace.

“Why did you not tell us Harry?”

Farid looked down again.

“I was frighted, very frighted. Zat Masteerr vould not vant me anymore.”

Black snorted at this point and Farid fixed him with another of those hard stares of his, which seemed to quell any other comment he might have made.

“I vas scared to fight ze dark vizard. But I know I chave to tell dyou zoon, ze silver vizard he know and ze….” He said a word in Kazakh here looking quizzically at Albus,

“Raggedy.”

Rraggedy chat!”

Albus was looking puzzled

“The Sorting Hat knew?”

“Oh jes!” Farid replied brightly “He say, if zese clever vizards cannot zee vhat is under zer noses I’ll not tell zem,” and he smiled one of his enormous smiles.

Now it was Albus’s turn to choke.

Severus wanted to laugh out loud, Farid with his own unique mix of shrewdness and innocence was running rings around them all, and could not help but feel inordinately proud of the boy right now.

Severus spoke for the first time.

“Farid who is the silver wizard?”

“Ze von cwho make vands, he zay I chave been marked by destiny and my vand is bruzzer to Voldemort’s.”

This time Severus knew he looked as stunned as everyone else did.

“What does that mean Harry? Your wand is a brother to Voldemort’s?”

“Jes, zey both chave,” here he wrinkled his brow “Phoenix fezzer inside zem. Same phoenix I sink, jes?” 

The silence that met this remark was profound.

“Farid,” Severus said, “when did you first realise who you were, when did you first know?”

Farid looked down again and a tear fell into his lap, Severus felt so awful, so dreadful that his boy, his beautiful boy had known all this time that he was Harry Potter and he had been too frightened to tell him, Ollivander had known, the Sorting Hat had known. Dumbledore had told him the whole story of what had happened to his parents, in a cool objective way. Farid knew that they had died because of the prophecy, it struck him then that all this time he had known _Severus_ part in their deaths, because Albus had told him that he had passed the edited details to Voldemort. It was their fault, his and Albus’ that Farid had had the childhood, the life that he had and yet he showed no hatred, no resentment. How could that be?

“Farid, please tell me?” He gently lifted the boy’s chin so that their eyes met and once again their beauty and the expressiveness within overcame him. How could he have thought the brown eyes expressive when these were just so much more? Before with the glamour in place his eyes had been beautiful but it had been like looking into a veil by comparison with the gorgeousness that was before him now.

Then finally, with one more quick peek at his master to seek approval Farid told them everything, he told them about his revelation the return of the memories and fearfully, checking to see Severus reaction he told them why he had been frightened.

Now Black exploded. “You see Albus, I told you he could not be trusted! Harry is scared of him, terrified, he could not even admit who he was while all the time this…this fucking pervert was raping my godson!”

But now Farid was on his feet and this time he had completely lost his temper, magical energy was spitting and crackling all around him and he rounded on Black like a hellcat.

“Stop it!” He yelled, “Jon’t dyou dare say zose zings about my Masteerr I lof him! I lof him viz all zat I chave!”

Black was on his feet too backing away but Farid was far from finished.

“Dyou zay I cham a cwhore, like I chave choice, like I choose zis, I vas eight year old! Master Yusuf he took me from house and he beat me and lock me in cage, and zey fuck me over and over again. In my mouz and up my ass and it churt mooch and I cry and I cry and zey beat me again. Zen zey lock me in liddle cage again for so long time and nobody come, zo I pray and vish zey would. I pray zat someone help me but nobody come. Not for ten year, not till chim.” 

Farid’s voice had broken now and he was holding back the sobs, trembling with distress and anger, “Not till Masteerr come and let me zit on chair and wear clothes and chave baz, in varm vater. Masteer take off collar and tell me I not have to fuck unless I choose, and I jo choose! I man now and I lof fuck wiz Masteerr I lof Masteerr and no von, not dyou, not Alboos take me avay!” 

He was sobbing openly unable to stop the tears Severus went to him then, and enfolded his boy in his arms and Farid buried his face in Severus robe and wept.

Severus picked him up and cradled him in his arms to comfort him just like he had that horrible day after he had stood by and let Farid be so savagely beaten.

He kissed him tenderly on the top of his head and said with as much dignity as he could muster, for he too was shaking with anger 

“I think that is enough for one day Albus, we are going back to my chambers. We will see you in the morning.” Farid had wrapped his arms around Severus neck by then and without more ado, still cradling his precious burden, Severus swept from the room.

 

A/N Thanks for all your reviews, I am away for a few days now and will not be able to answer them or post anymore till I get back, but here is a little something to keep you going! *hugs you all* Lucie


	20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

It seemed like the longest walk that Severus had ever taken. He was a strong man, more than six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a lot of stamina. Farid on the other had was barely five feet six and weighed far less than he should for his height, so it was not carrying Farid that was the problem, it was the distance and the fact that almost every child in the school must have stopped at some time to stare at them. Because he was Severus Snape and they feared his tongue, his wrath, they did not ask the questions he could see glittering in their eyes. Severus was sure that if Farid had not been hiding but walking beside his master then they surely would have ripped him apart with their questioning by now.

Line after line of children stopped to watch them pass, quietly, wide eyed and all this time Farid kept his head firmly buried in the crook of his master’s neck, and as they walked he trembled. Whether from fear, or cold, or exhaustion Severus could not tell. He wanted to take Farid to his bed, undress him, check him over, own him again. He wondered if it were the bond that made him feel like this about the boy, so protective, so sensitive. The bond that he was not even sure existed 

But they would investigate now wouldn’t they? Albus and Lupin and Black. They would see if they could break it or transfer ownership to one of them? Black would fight him in the courts try to force the issue and the thought of Farid in his hands made Severus want to turn around and go and beat the bastard to death! Only a few days ago Farid had stood in the Great Hall and introduced himself to the Gryffindors, unafraid, unashamed of what he was. Now that same brave boy was hiding his head with shame, thinking he was dirty, somehow responsible for what he had had to do, and that dreadful confrontation that he had had with Nott couldn’t have helped. 

Severus sighed deeply and Farid just tightened his grip and trembled some more. Finally he reached the door of his chambers, and so many things had happened that day that he found himself completely unsurprised to find a small delegation of Gryffindors and one Draco Malfoy sitting outside. They stood as he approached and watched his progression.

“Good afternoon,” he said “and what might I do for you?”

“Please Sir, may we see Farid?” Hermione seemed to be spokesperson for this strange delegation 

Farid shook his head; he obviously did not want to see anyone, possibly ever again. But Severus knew that feeling, he had been there himself once or twice when he had been a teenager, and funnily enough there had usually been a Potter involved then too. So he nodded, and ignoring the tiny whimper that Farid gave he whispered the password and led them into his chambers.

Farid was clinging to him now and Severus had to steel himself, hard though it was 

“No Farid,” he said, “your friends are here and they want to see you, you will talk to them!”

Farid froze 

Then he let go of Severus’ neck

“Jes Master.”

Severus heard the other children gasp as he said this and he lowered Farid to the ground.

Farid it seemed did not know what to do it was obvious that he would not disobey his master but it was also obvious that he was very distressed, when had he come to care so much about what these children thought about him? His hands were clenching and unclenching his head stayed lowered and he was trembling harder than ever.

“Oh Farid!” Said Hermione sadly and she walked over to him and hugged him tight. Farid looked panicked, his eyes met Severus’s asking for permission but when Severus nodded and smiled at him Farid finally relaxed. Severus could see it in the lines of his body, the relief on his face; he was barely an inch taller than Hermione so he could lay his head on her shoulder without being picked up or having to stretch, they stood there for a moment or two and then Hermione said

“Poor Farid, poor, poor love,” that was all it took to open the floodgates and finally, heartbreakingly Farid wept. He wept for his stolen childhood, for the pain and humiliation he had had to suffer in his life, for the strain of the last few weeks and for the spirit crushing embarrassment that Black had forced upon him. All of this Severus knew, he felt it; they were almost tangible these feelings Farid was broadcasting to him, presumably through the bond, and he speculated about how many people had held Farid like this in his life requiring nothing in return, merely offering comfort. He realised with a guilty start that it was probably precious few.

Much later Severus sat in the battered armchair that was adjacent to the fireplace in his bedroom. He had often spent time here after returning from one of Voldemort’s summonses, trying to get the images out of his head. Tom Riddle, and the shade that had been Voldemort had joined together soon after Ginerva Weasley had died in the Chamber of Secrets. No other children had been killed once the Basilisk had been released as Dumbledore and the other teachers, assisted by some very brave seventh years had guided them all from the building. But it had taken nearly four months for trained Aurors, supported by Hagrid to finally subdue the beast, hence the school closure. Parents had been reluctant to return their children and a number had departed for Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and other wizarding schools. 

The return of the other Weasley children had probably been the one thing that had really reassured the other parents, so Severus should have known, he really should, that there was more to Ron than he had suspected previously. The boy had sat next to Farid, once he had calmed down enough to listen and told him that he thought he was one of the bravest people he had ever met and that he should not mind some of the other kids because “some of them really are a bunch of wankers!” Farid was an important addition to Gryffindor he told him 

They had all been shocked by the fact of Farid’s slavery, how could they not be? But again they had assured him that they did not mind or feel any differently about him. How they felt about Severus they did not say, but they eyed him once or twice, warily. Even that craven fool Longbottom had been quick to reassure Farid, that they liked him, and did not think any less of him for Black’s dreadful words and still wanted to be his friends. 

Severus had never quite forgiven this young Longbottom for being so unlike his brave and handsome father. Frank and he had had a relationship for almost the whole of one term when Frank had been a glamorous seventh year and Severus had been a lowly fifth. They had parted on good terms though and tentatively stayed friends when Frank had married Alice, she of the fearsome wit and dancing eyes. Severus had always thought this quivering weakling not worth the sanity of his mother and father, but seeing him comfort Farid he thought that maybe he had been wrong and there was more to this boy too than met the eye. 

The children had stayed for more than an hour and Severus wondered ruefully about the changes that his boy had wrought in him. The Snape of a month ago would never have even dreamed of hosting several of Gryffindor’s elite in his chambers, never mind offering them all a hot chocolate and raison and oat cookies as he did, those being one of Farid’s favourite treats. 

When they were sitting, sipping their drinks, hands wrapped around the cups for comfort asking Farid a little about the things that he remembered about being Harry Potter and his life before Hogwarts; Draco asked Severus if they could speak alone, and then launched into questioning his godfather about his spying and how long he had been on the side of the light. Severus was delighted, he had wanted Draco to make the choice he seemed to be deciding on for several years now, but he was under no illusion that the other students had taken the opportunity to question Farid about Severus’s treatment of him. That fact would have seriously annoyed him not that long ago, and it still would if Albus were to ask it, but somehow the concern of these young people touched him in a way that was unexpected because they had cause to have seen the very worst of Severus, he knew they were in awe of him and yet they had braved his quarters to check on and reassure their friend. Gryffindors indeed he thought.

Draco had stopped short of offering his assistance to Severus, but he was certainly leaning towards that instead of his current neutrality, but Farid, who was so tired that he was swaying sleepily where he sat, distracted Severus. So he sent the children away, promising Draco that they would talk more at a later date. Then he had sat beside Farid and proceeded to take care of his boy

He loved his baths, and Farid enjoyed them too. Severus had never had much money in his childhood and as soon as he could afford it on his teacher’s salary he had built this bathroom. It was his major luxury; his one indulgence and he loved sharing it with Farid. He undressed the boy slowly, carefully he wanted to examine him see how Harry Potter differed from his little Farid. Without the glamour he was different and yet essentially the same. He had a look of his father. About his nose, his mouth, but James features were softened on Farid, which is perhaps why Severus had never noticed the resemblance before now. His eyes though were just like his mother’s large, expressive and Severus’s favourite green. He was truly beautiful and Severus thrilled to the fact that he still belonged to him. 

Item by item he peeled away the layers of the boy’s clothing until naked and defenseless he stood before him, eyes lowered, perfectly still just as he had been taught, open to his master, denying him nothing. Severus ran his fingers over him, checking him, caressing him, exploring this new skin.

He was much paler than he had been with the glamour. Then his flesh had been the colour of very milky coffee. Once, before Voldemort returned, he had spent a summer in the south of France with his sometime lover Lucius Malfoy, and each morning they had sat in pavement cafés and watched the world go by, eating pastries and croissants and crumbling them into the deep white cups that had held café au lait. That had been the colour of Farid’s skin, creamy, palest mocha, smooth and unblemished all over. Farid’s true colouring had yet to emerge, he was so pale right now that he was almost translucent, blue-white in places. That combination made the scars that decorated him and the dark circles under his eyes livid against the paleness of his skin. The combination of lack of sunlight for years on end, and the added protection offered by the glamour meant that Farid’s skin was as unnatural right now as it had been earlier under the glamour. It was not unattractive though he thought absently stroking the boy’s back and thighs.

Farid did have a number of scars. There were some on his back that looked like they had been made by a vicious whipping, probably using a strap. There were burn marks on his inner thighs that might have been done with a poker and worse of all carved into the flat patch of skin above his right hipbone was the word _FREAK_ in small neat letters, faded to brown.

Severus was incensed that his boy had been marked like this and vowed to ask him about it the next day, he could see that he was too tired to speak coherently right now, but tomorrow, tomorrow there was much that they would discuss. 

He tugged gently on the nipple rings, so that Farid would follow him over to the gleaming sunken bath and Severus carefully lowered him in to the hot water, which was filled with bubbles and aromatic floating candles.

Seconds later divested of his clothing he joined Farid in the steaming water and pulled the boy towards him, stroking his silken thighs; he turned his slave so that he was facing away and started to prepare his tight entrance for Severus cock. Massaging the area around his anus, slicking him with oil and stretching the muscles with long slim fingers. He was very aroused now, Farid had leaned back against his master, sweet, obedient, his hair wet and plastered to his back, cheeks gaining a little pinkness from the heat of the water, he looked completely delectable. 

Severus held him tight, hands crossed in front of him gripped firmly in Severus’s own fist. When the slave was in the right position Severus buried himself the boy in one hard thrust, and Farid cried out, but whether with lust or pain Severus could not tell. He just knew he had to be inside his slave right now, he had to possess him again. The boy was so well trained, and he marvelled at his compliance his acceptance of ownership. In this position Severus could not do very much but he thrilled with pleasure as the boy slowly fucked himself on Severus’s cock, building up the pressure slowly, languidly until Severus came, screaming his completion. He was only afterwards that he realised that Farid had not come, that his cock was limp and unresponsive buried in his damp curls. Severus had forgotten to order him to get hard.

He sipped a bit more of his Talisker and leaned back into the chair, Severus loved the malt and had even once in his younger days visited the distillery on Skye, though he had apparated there rather than facing the rickety bus ride that seemed to take ages trundling along the narrow single track roads, sometimes he was really glad that he was not a muggle. Farid whickered in his sleep; he had cried so much tonight and Severus hoped that some of it at least had been cathartic. Farid cried easily, most boys his age would have done almost anything before displaying weakness, but Farid had been taught to appear weak, in his case it was strength that he hid. 

But the tears tonight had been different they had been the cry of a tortured soul, abandoned, lonely and frightened. By the time the Gryffindors had left they looked exhausted, tired out from their part in trying to rebuild the pieces of this seemingly broken boy.

From what Severus had seen of Farid since he had taken him from Yusuf’s tender care Farid was very tough, he had overcome so much and if he had collapsed at last because of Black’s idiotic behaviour then no one would be strong enough to stop Severus ripping out his heart with his bare hands.

He finished his whiskey with one final gulp and made his way over to the bed. Climbing in beside the boy and pulling him possessively closer he lifted his nightgown so that he could feel the boy’s naked arse against his cock, which was hard again, and leaking. He could have lost him today he almost had. He needed to make him his own again, Farid stirred “Masteerr, how can this slave serve dyou?” he muttered, half asleep.

“Sshh,” Severus whispered, “just turn on your front, my own,” Farid obeyed as ever, completely acquiescent and Severus took him again.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty One

 

Farid sat up with a start, he had been dreaming horrible confused dreams of being hunted, persecuted chased by something slimy and evil

Master was watching him, with those deep dark eyes of his. They fascinated Farid with their coal dark depths, some people thought that black was frightening, Farid used to think that too, but since Master had come into his life he found comfort in black, at least in the black of Master’s eyes anyway. He smiled and said

“Good morning, Masteerr, chow can thi….”

Master put his finger to Farid lips then and said that special sound the one that comforted Farid above all others.

“Ssshh, no sweetheart no, never again, not again.” Master had tears in his eyes and Farid put out a hand to wipe them from the corner of Master’s eye.

He started to speak, but Master shushed him gently,

“I am so sorry Farid, so sorry my love,” Master was caressing his cheek and Farid could not understand why he was upset. Had he finally decided that the Black man was right and that Farid was dirty? His fear must have shown in his face because Master hugged him, held him close and whispered words of comfort 

“Can you forgive me for last night, love. I have lain here thinking about it for hours, I don’t know what made me treat you like that, I think perhaps I am going mad, to use you like that, to treat you like a slave, to have no thought for you, your pleasure, can you forgive me love please?”

Farid really did not understand what Master was talking about. He understood the words; it was not that, he just could not understand why Master was apologising. He was a slave after all, sex was what he was for, had been what he was for for as long as he could really remember, and Master had been gentle, kind when he had used Farid, he had never had such kindness before.

So he tried to tell Master this, stumbling over the words sometimes, he said how much he loved his master, how good he was to him, how gentle. He then went on to detail the things that Master didn’t do that made him so good, but that just seemed to make things worse and Master was sobbing uncontrollably now, soaking Farid with his tears and Farid was completely at a loss. He really could not see why master was so distressed. He thought that maybe he could get someone to help Master, Hermione perhaps or Albus Grey Beard? But he could not leave him like this, so he tried to copy what Master did when he, Farid was crying. He shushed Master and stroked his hair and he hummed the song that Master sang to him.

Farid had a pleasant tenor voice, maybe if his life had been different he would have sung in a choir, or a band, but he had not heard much music at the castle, Yusuf had not really cared for it, but he loved this song of Master’s.

“Sweet and low, sweet and low…” he sang humming where he forgot the words, and it must have been okay because Master stopped crying and just held him again and listened.  
When the song finished he sat up straight and took Farid’s face in both his hands.

“Farid you have the right to say no, to deny me, to tell me to piss off! Last night you were exhausted, you had been so upset and I just used you for my own comfort and never thought about you, can’t you see that’s wrong?”

“But Masteerr, dyou own me, dyou are my Master, I cannot deny dyou.”

“You can Farid, I won’t be cross, I promise. It is just not right that I tell you what to do, want to possess you like this, keep marking you as mine.”

“But Masteer, dyou cannot chelp dis!”

“Yes Farid I can, I know what it is like to be governed by some one else, he indicated the mark on his arm that Farid had always instinctively avoided. When I took you from Yusuf. I promised myself that I would not behave like him, and yet,” his voice cracked for a moment, “I _used_ you for sex, with no thought of you of your pleasure, can you not see how wrong that is?”

Farid could not, that was how it had always been so he said just one word in return.

“No?” 

“We have to stop this slavery thing, I will not leave you, ever, do you understand?”

Farid started to feel somewhat frantic, did Master want to sell him, give him away? Kill him? As far as Farid knew these were the only ways to break the bond, but could he ask these questions would Master mind? Farid gathered his courage and asked.

“Masteerr, not vant me no more, vant sell me, give me to someone else?”

“No! Never!”

Farid could not say the final option “kill me”. Instead his forehead creased and he started to worry his lower lip with his teeth, and Master smiled and kissed him.

“Don’t worry, my love, I just want you to not be a slave any longer, I still want you to be mine! I still love you.”

Farid realised that Master did not know about the bond, maybe he could not see it, he could feel it if he tried, and it affected his actions but he was so much kinder than Master Yusuf had been, or Farid’s uncle come to that and there had been no spell involved in Uncle Vernon’s treatment.

They said that his magic was strong maybe the other wizards could not see the link like he could and that was why they thought it did not exist? Farid wondered, maybe this was why Master felt so guilty because he thought there was no bond?

Farid knew his English was still not good enough to explain all of this to Master, so he decided to show him.

He reached up and put his hand on Master’s cheek, it was sleep roughened and Farid could not help himself he stroked it gently with his thumb, he was not frightened any longer though because Master allowed him such liberties, and Farid wished he could show Master how much these freedoms meant.

Master looked at him, and in his eyes was such pain, such guilt. Farid knew that Master did not deserve to feel such things; ever since he had taken Farid he had fought against the compulsions of the bond Farid knew that, right from the beginning. Yusuf had had the same control, over him, held his life, literally in his hand but Farid had not surrendered in the way he had to Master.

“It not jour fault Masteerr, it ze bond. Look.”

He concentrated hard, aiming to make the magic link clearer to Master and all at once he saw it and he gasped “Oh Merlin!” 

The magical chain that linked them both gleamed golden in the firelight of the bedroom as Farid made it tangible, showed his master that it was indeed real. It stretched if it needed to but it could not be broken, ever, and Farid could not defy his Master, not this one, not like he had with Yusuf. Yusuf’s chain had run from his hand to Farid’s stomach to his solar plexus, but Master’s chain was tangled around his heart which meant that he had given his love and therefore promised complete and utter devotion and obedience, for this life and the next, to this one man. He was truly enslaved, forever

Master’s eyes had grown wide, and he tried to speak, but it was as if he could not form the words, Farid nearly laughed because he made no more sense that Farid did sometimes, but it was too serious he knew to have Master upset like this. But he had to know the truth, the full truth Master did, he did not seem to understand, so Farid had to tell him.

“Chain is magic bond.” He took Master’s right hand in his and squeezed gently, “From Masteerr’s chand, to Farid’s cheart. Masteerr can squeeze chand shut and vant me dead and I vill be. Master own me I ham jours, for alvays.”

Master was shaking his head.

“No! Oh no my love!” He looked horrified, and Farid felt anxious he had tried to make things better but had only made them worse.

“I sorry?”

Master looked at him then, deep into his eyes “I truly own you?” Farid nodded, “this bond makes me want to possess you?” Farid nodded again. Master was looking beyond him now, deep in thought. “I could feel it, it is like a compulsion sometimes, it was last night, like I had to assert my ownership, because that, because we had been threatened."

Master sat quietly for a moment, looking at the chain, which though visable was slowly fading from sight

“Farid, can this bond be dissolved?”

“Jes, dyou can sell me, or give me avay, or kill me.”

“And what happens then?”

Farid felt desperate, why did Master need to know this?

“New Masteerr moost claim me like dyou did.”

Master’s eyes filled with horror again. “No I will not let that happen!" 

Then suddenly voice panicked, "But Farid what happens if I do not give you away and I die?”

“Zen I die too Masteerr.”

He found himself crushed against his Master’s chest again his hair was being stroked Master was muttering, almost under his breath

“Nononononononononono.”

Then he spoke again. 

“I can’t believe it Farid, I won’t believe it, there must be another way, I promise you, if it takes me until the rest of my days I will find a way, one day my love, my dearest one you will be free.”


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

They sat and talked for much of the morning. It was Saturday, so there were no classes. Severus knew that they would not be left alone for very long, but for now at least the world had left them in peace. 

He had asked Farid about his scars thinking they had been done by some particularly nasty vampires and was shocked to the core when Farid assured him that no, these had been made by his uncle. The word freak had been carved when he was very little indeed, he could still remember his uncle ramming some socks in his mouth to muffle his screams and tying him to the kitchen table so that he could not move. Farid knew the word had been carved before he started school, because he thought his name _was_ freak until then.

They had made love that morning also, Severus had been very mindful of Farid’s pleasure this time, and Farid had been in ecstasy, as Severus had nibbled and kissed his way up the boy’s body and stroked him to completion, before coming himself deep inside his slave. 

Farid had slept again then, he was still exhausted from the day before Severus thought, and whilst he slept curled against his master dark lashes curled on his cheeks, pink lips pursed a little, hair tumbling all over the pillow. And Severus ached with love for him.

They had had another bath but this time Severus had tried to restrain himself, even though a pick cheeked Farid damp hair curling slightly from the heat of the bath, was a most delectable morsel. Farid however had different ideas and he jumped his master so that both slipped under the water and came up gasping for breath, he had stuck his tongue in Severus’s mouth and he had been able to resist sucking the boy’s voluptuous lower lip and then one thing had led to another and they had made love amongst the fast depleting bubbles and after that they had needed a shower.

Farid was sitting, completely naked cross-legged in his chair when the alarm sounded to say that there was someone at the entrance to Severus chambers, they had just finished brunch and Farid had been nibbling on a pastry, and looking most delicious himself. Severus sent him off to put some clothes on, he was almost relieved because he was, he had to face facts, not getting any younger, he did not have quite the stamina that he once had and he did not want to disappoint Farid. 

He went to the portrait hole to find the usual Gryffindor crowd, with the addition of Finnigan and Thomas and new best friend of the house of the red and gold, Draco. Once again, Hermione was the spokeswoman. 

“We have come to see Farid,” she said her chin tilted defiantly as if daring him to disagree with her, he suspected that the Gryffindors had doubts about his suitability as owner and master of their precious mascot. After last night’s performance he told himself they would not be completely wrong if their thoughts ran along those lines. 

These students had truly become devoted to the boy in such a short time and he was sure that they would be fierce in their defence of him, so he welcomed them in and ordered them coffee and cakes.

Farid wandered in from the bedroom then, and Severus could have groaned, for Farid’s idea of dressing for company and his were quite obviously poles apart. When Severus had first purchased Farid’s wardrobe he had bought a number of sensible practical items, but he had always had a certain fondness for silk pajamas he had bought several pairs and the boy wore them quite often when they were alone. Severus had discarded the tops and kept the trousers, he had also purchased them two sizes to large so that they would sit low on Farid’s hips and leave his torso and his chest, with those nipple rings that Severus was addicted to completely exposed.

Farid was both completely unselfconscious and stunningly attractive and as he walked into the room with his damp hair held back by a ribbon - green to match these particular pjs, curling around his face. His eyes sparkled with happiness and his cheeks were still slightly flushed from exertion, and from the heat of the bath. 

The Gryffindors looked astonished, and Severus, most embarrassingly, found himself beginning to blush. Farid had not seemed to notice the stunned silence and he walked over to his master and standing on tiptoe placed a sensuous kiss on Severus’s mouth before turning to see who their guests were. 

His face broke into a huge smile when he saw his friends.

“Chello, good morning!” he said cheerfully, “Chit is good to zee dyou.”

Seamus perhaps summed up the feelings of every one in the room at that point when he said

“Fecking hell Farid, you are fecking gorgeous! No wonder half the wizarding world wants to get into your pants!”

Now they were all seated round Severus dining room table, which he had allowed Farid to enlarge, playing exploding snap. Farid it seemed had never played the game before and he was laughing and clapping the others, the first time he had ever played he had beaten them all soundly and was well on his way to doing the same thing all over again.

Severus was talking again to Draco, but still keeping half an eye on his boy, he was not in the slightest bit worried that any of the children at the table might wish him harm, well not consciously at least but something niggled away at him, and he supposed it was the bond. It seemed much easier to identify, now that he was aware of it, but it remained another matter to see how well he could control it.

Ron was laughing at something Farid had said and Hermione was eyeing Farid’s nipple rings and surreptitiously glaring at Severus every so often. He knew the girl had run endless campaigns on Elfish welfare and he was quite worried that she would start on him fairly soon about the fact that Farid was a slave. 

He knew he would need to talk to her very soon, because what he had learned from the boy was that he had no concept of freedom, he knew what it was, obviously, and maybe he felt it sometimes when he flew. But from their long conversation last night Severus had realised that as regards himself, Farid could never envisage freedom.

Therefore it was up to him to ensure the boy had as much freedom as he possibly could given the spell that bound them and he was very unsure how to go about that. He thought about asking Albus, but found that he did not altogether trust the old man to have Farid’s best interests at heart. Oh he undoubtedly cared about the boy, but Severus could not quite escape thinking about the hungry look in Dumbledore’s eye when he had found out that Farid was Harry Potter. So though it seemed strange him asking advice from a mere girl, he had decided that he would indeed talk to her about it when the opportunity arose.

The door alarm went again and this time it was Albus. He had Black and Lupin in tow again and Severus felt very reluctant to let them in.

“Please Severus, we do need to talk and Sirius has promised to be on his best behaviour.”

Severus humfed at that and stood back to let the trio enter.

Farid had stood up too. He had tensed somewhat and the other students seemed to have tensed to some extent too they were all eyeing Black warily.

“Good morning children,” Albus said cheerfully 

Good morning Alboos Grey Beard,” Farid replied, seemingly for all of them, Severus did not know how he did it but he was standing there by the table, surrounded by his friends. He managed to convey immense dignity whilst clad only in a pair of silk jama bottoms and some silver nipple rings and looking as he did extremely well fucked.

Black’s eyes were just about popping out of his head Severus thought, meanwhile Lupin just looked rather sad. 

“Professor Snape, we were thinking of doing some Quidditch practice, could we take Farid along?” Ron Weasley asked, “It might be good for him to get outside for a while.”

Farid’s eyes lit up joyfully

“Oh Masteerr pleas?” he asked

“I think that is a very good idea Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore cut in, annoying Severus quite considerably, he was not about to refuse his boy but he was annoyed that Dumbledore thought he had rights in the matter.

So he merely nodded, somewhat churlishly he knew, but he was very gratified when Farid flew into his arms and smothered him with kisses. 

Two minutes later and he was much more suitably attired in a thin jumper and chinos holding his cloak and ready to go. The others had risen from the table and moved towards the door as the children moved past Black shot out a hand and grabbed Farid’s arm.

“Harry” he said “I am so sorry about yesterday,” Severus was incensed, how dare he grab hold of his boy like that with out even asking Farid if it was okay? But Black was continuing

“I just got so angry, and sometimes I say things I don’t mean, you are my godson and I care for you and I want you to know,” Here he glared at Severus, “If anyone ever hurts you I am here for you, I’ll always help you.”

Farid was about to speak but at this point Ron Weasley stepped up instead, gently pushing his diminutive friend in the direction of Hermione and Neville.

“Professor Black,” he said to the some time Quidditch coach, "as far as we can all see the only person in this room to seriously hurt Farid so far is you. He is our friend and we care about him, and we know he has been through far too much shit in his life to deserve the sort of treatment you dished out yesterday.”

“Ron,” squeaked Hermione, “You swore at a teacher,”

“Did I really?” Ron said, “Well I am about to do much worse than that.”

Ron Weasley was a big man, he was well over eighteen and stood six foot four in his socks, he had large shoulders and big hands.

“One more thing Professor,” he said drawing one of those hands into a fist and when Black looked at him enquiringly he pulled it back and punched Black square on the jaw.

“Ron!” Hermione was really agitated now, “You hit a teacher!”

“No Hermione,” the young man replied, “I hit a bastard who also happens to teach!”

“We’ll look after him Professor Snape.” He promised, “we’ll bring him back safe,” and with that he and the other students, Farid in their midst swept from the room.

Severus felt like clapping, like laughing aloud, but from Albus and Lupin there was a stunned silence, finally broken when a voice came from the floor.

“Ow that fucking hurt!”


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

A/N By the way this chapter has a cliffie, so if you are bothered about those you might want to wait I should hopefully have the next chapter up tomorrow. Thanks for all the reviews. Am getting to the answers I promise. *hugs* Luciex 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

They were sitting on the grass, watching the others circling overhead on school brooms. Ron said that if you could fly a school broom you could fly anything. 

Draco had headed off for the library with Neville, because Neville did not fly, ever, and Draco could hardly practice with Gryffindors: even if he did do just about everything else with them these days. 

Farid thought that Hermione would probably have rather gone to the library but instead she had stayed to talk to him. Farid had been up in the air for more than an hour himself, and then he had landed so that each of the others could have a try of his Firebolt. But now they were practicing team moves and so Farid was sitting out for a while.

“Are you happy?” Farid she asked.

Farid’s heart sank. He liked this girl with the curly hair and shy smile, he really did, she had befriended him and defended him and because of her he had made lots of other friends. She was teaching him to read and write his own name and he thought that he was probably growing to love her. But she did fuss! And no one, other than Master had ever fussed over Farid so he was not quite sure how to react, he tried a tentative. 

“Jes?”

“But are you really happy? Does…does Professor Snape treat you well Farid?”

“Er..Jes?”

“But how would you know? You have had such a terrible life, you would think that what we knew to be dreadful cruelty was okay and you would not complain, would you Farid? Because you are so loyal.”

She had lost him completely with that last sentence. Farid was very good at keeping up with the conversation these days but Hermione came up with some really strange comments sometimes and he really did not know how to answer that one, so he just said.

“Sorry?”

Hermione humfed.

“Farid,” she said, taking his hand in hers, “Yesterday we all got a huge shock. Do you understand?” And when he nodded “The worst thing was finding out that you are a slave. 

There are no slaves in this world Farid, because slavery is wrong.” She looked at him to see if he were still following what she was saying, and seeing his close regard she continued. “Professor Snape can be a bit…..” She bit her lip, obviously deciding what to say next until finally deciding on, “Grumpy.”

Farid started to laugh

Hermione looked a bit grumpy herself then, but he gave her a hug and smiled his apology at her. Nobody seemed to understand how he felt about his master. But he really liked this girl so he thought he would try and explain.

“Che is grumpy. Sometimes he get cross and I not know vhy. But is also kind, and che try wery mooch to make me chappy.”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Farid held up a hand to stop her.

“Pleas Chermione, let me say. I know vat dyou say about slave. Boot I am slave, there is spell, strong spell that bind me,” He looked down at his hands held loosely in his lap and thought for a moment before continuing. “Spell cannot be broke, I zink. Master vant try, che vant me free, boot this might not be able?”

I is more free wis zis master than ezer. Never before could I go outside, or zit on chair or choose clothes, or vear clothes. Master let me fly, che buy me broom, che let me chave friends and zit viz dyou on ze grass in ze sun. Zis is much freedom for me. I lof chim, wery mooch and jes I is chappy.” 

He looked up at her now to see that her eyes were filled with tears. He took the cotton handkerchief that Master always made him carry out of his pocket and reached over to the girl, smiling at her kindly he gently dabbed at her eyes.  
“Jon’t cry Chermione, I is chappy.”

“But what happened to you Farid, should not have happened, you should have been looked after and loved not…not,” She broke off for a moment obviously upset, “He has sex with you!”

Farid nearly laughed again, but she was so upset that he swallowed his mirth. 

“I know, Chermione, I vish zings had been not like zis? But zey are and I moost live zis vay.” Then with a smug smile on his face he said, “Master is wery, wery good at sex!”  
Hermione gasped, and then she went bright red, and then she said.

“Well he certainly has been a lot less _grumpy_ in class since you came along.”

Then they both began to laugh. Eventually Hermione moved closer to him and she whispered. 

“Do you ever seduce him?”

Farid looked a bit puzzled, “Vat is seduce?”

“You know,” Hermione said giving him a pointed look, “if he does not feel like…em… _you know_ ”

Farid smiled, he thought these English children were very sweet. He knew so little about their world and thankfully he thought they had little real idea of his. Did he know how to seduce a man indeed! He had seen Hermione, looking longingly after Ron, and had seen them kissing once or twice but he wondered if they had got much further than that, he thought maybe not.

“Oh jes, I is wery good at seduce, dyou vant seduce Ron?”

Hermione went bright red again, but she nodded, rather shyly

“I vill tell dyou, but dyou moost tell me zomezing.” She looked at him eagerly

“Yes what?” She asked

“Is his hair zat colour all ozer?”

Hermione’s jaw dropped open and she went if possible even redder. Then she realised from Farid’s sparkling eyes that he was teasing her and she started to laugh 

 

Severus was not laughing however.

He and Black had been arguing with each other for the last 45 minutes. The trouble was they hated each other: always had, always would. Lupin sat with his head in his hands and even Albus looked grey and sad. 

Severus wanted to talk to them about Farid, tell them about the slavery bond. He was not going to tell it all, not by any means but he thought Lupin might be sympathetic at least. He knew Farid still looked young, which in many people’s eyes probably made him a corrupter of the innocent. He had not missed the look that Lupin had given him earlier when he had seen Farid in his silk pajamas, but really, what did they think he and the boy got up to?

He wanted to talk to them, but the direction things were moving in right now he was likely “do a Ron” and hit Black, and then throw them all out with nothing resolved.   
Finally it was Lupin that stopped the row this time he stood up and just shouted at them both.

“Enough, both of you. That is enough!”

Severus thought the shock of the seemingly mild mannered werewolf shouting at them was what finally stopped Black’s tirade. He was delighted but because quite frankly he had had enough of the animagus’s slights and crude comments. As time went on Severus felt more and more worried about what was going to happen to him and Farid. 

He loved the boy, truly loved him.

It had taken a while for this whole slavery thing to sink in. It had not seemed real at first, almost like a game, a lovely, lovely game and he had had a lot of fun. They both had he thought. 

Then he had done his best to try and get Farid socialized, or at least start the process, he wanted him to learn to be the man he always should have been. Not the trained, submissive creature that Yusuf had tried to produce; because the boy had such fire inside him, such life, such emotional strength. He wanted to see more of that strength. 

But the bond was working on him too negating those feelings. Part of him did want to subjugate the boy, own him, have him kneel at his feet. That scared him and all these conflicting emotions? They were tearing him apart.

And now of course there was this new revelation of Farid’s. Bound to him forever. How on earth was he going to deal with that? 

He was quite freaked out by it if he told the truth. What had happened to Farid was beyond cruel; it was dreadful, awful, obscene. How in the hell did Severus start to make things better? How in the hell could he at least begin to help Farid understand freedom if nothing else? He didn’t think he could do it on his own he needed help. But Severus had never been very good at asking for help had he?

Black was speaking again now so Severus dragged himself out of his thoughts to listen.

“…..ive him to me or Remus, if you can’t release him. We wouldn’t just use him for sex!”

“You don’t know what it was like.” Severus was speaking in a monotone, he didn’t care what Black said any longer; this whole situation had gone beyond petty threats and arguments. Old hatreds had to be put aside, for Farid’s sake. Perhaps because he was speaking so quietly Black stopped his ranting and finally listened and for the next short while, apart from the sound of Severus’s voice as his tale unwound and the occasional horrified gasp from his listeners the rooms were completely silent.

“Yusuf, the Master Vampire took us to the stables to show me where the slaves were trained, it is a cold dark cellar that smells of despair. They kept him in a tiny cage for weeks, and finally when he was broken down enough they took him out and trained him. Trained him to please his owners in anyway they wished and believe me you do not wish to know what that training entailed. 

Farid told you yesterday that he had never sat on a chair, or been allowed to feed himself. That was true. All that he told you was true. Everything. His whole life was regulated, his every decision made by his master. He truly believes that he has had more freedom with me than anyone else in his life, and the really awful thing is he is right. That’s why he attached himself to me in the way he did I think. Because I hurt him less than anyone else ever had. 

Then when I continued to treat him like a human being, he fell in love. I saw it in his eyes, just because I gave him a bath, and soothed the wounds that I had caused.”

“What wounds, Severus?” Someone. Lupin? Asked urgently.

“They gave me a potion. They made him give it to me. It was a lust potion, it made me rape him.”

Black gasped loudly at that but he said no more. Someone must have stilled him.

“I never thought I would rape anyone, I never thought I had it in me to do that to another human being. But I will never forget that morning afterwards. I had been in a frenzy and I hurt him so much!” Severus had tears running down his cheeks now; he was trying hard not to sob. Albus pushed a glass of water into his hands and he took a sip before continuing.

“He lay there in my bed. He looked so fragile and I had raped him, hurt him. It wasn’t till later that I discovered that I owned him. Yusuf told me. The rape was the claiming. That’s the only way the bond can be passed on.”

He looked directly into Black’s eyes now and held his gaze. 

“I could give him to you, or Albus or Lupin. But then you would have to rape him just as I did. That is the only way to transfer the bond. To claim him, forcibly and Yusuf told me that, other than this method, this claiming such a bond cannot be broken. Ever. 

I don’t think I believed it, it seemed so ridiculous, so cruel. But last night Farid showed me the bond it is there. It does exist. So it is up to me to care for him, to protect him for as long as I live. Because I cannot have him go though such pain again.”

The three other men stared at him, horror struck. Severus saw something he had never thought to see in their eyes. Sympathy.

“Oh Severus…” Albus began, but he got no further because just at that moment the door to the chambers was flung open. It was charmed to only allow himself or Farid inside without permission so the fact that Hermione came through made Severus leap to his feet with worry, she was followed directly behind by Ron and in his arms he held Farid.

Severus was at his side before anyone else even moved.

“What’s going on Weasley? You said you’d take care of him!”

I…we…did…but..”

Farid spoke, causing Severus to look down at him in Ron’s arms. His scar had opened and was pouring blood. It was in his hair and running in rivulets down his cheeks.

“CHe knows Masteerr. Woldemort knows!”

Then Severus’s world exploded with white, hot, pain. Pain that was pulsing, pouring through the mark on his arm and he could not help himself. He screamed in agony.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

A/N I have now got two betas so my gorgeous gals are checking my grammar and punctuation! Which needed some work, more than 120,000 words in less than eight weeks, means a lot of mistakes! They are getting the rest of the story beta-ed too! *squees* So thanks muchly to _Kim_ and _thequeenanne_. I love you ladies!

 

Severus awoke a long time later. He felt like he had been run over by a herd of centaurs. His head was pounding. He prised open his eyes, wincing at the bright light and snapping them shut as fast as he could. He was not in the dungeons anymore; that was for certain. The light down there was never this bright. Tentatively, he opened his eyes again, more slowly this time, to see that he was in one of the starched white beds in the infirmary. He peered around, still squinting somewhat, and nearly fell out of bed with shock. Sitting right beside him, in one of those dreadfully uncomfortable hospital chairs, was Sirius Black.

“Well, now I know for certain that Poppy hates me!” Severus muttered. “I wake up, wondering where in the blue blazes I am, only to be confronted by your odious face. This day just gets better and better! Why am I here? What just happened? Where is Farid? And last, but not least, what the _fuck_ do you want?”

Severus had sat bolt upright, and having shouted the last bit, he began to believe that maybe the centaurs in his head had started wearing clogs?

He groaned, and the next thing he knew, Sirius Black was beside him laying a cool cloth on his head and giving him sips of cold water through a straw. Severus just stared at him, although he did take the proffered water. “I am in an alternate universe, aren’t I? Either that, or The Dark Lord has tortured me into insanity!”

Black sat back down again. He looked chagrined, embarrassed.

“I am here to eat humble pie, Severus. May I call you Severus?”

“No, you most certainly may not! Where is Farid, and what is going on?” Then raising his voice, which caused the centaurs to stop their pounding and get out extra large sledgehammers to go with the clogs. “ALBUS!” 

“He can’t hear you right now. He is downstairs with Fudge, trying to keep him away from you and Har… Farid. Farid is just a couple of beds from you. He is unconscious Sev… er Snape.”

Severus tried to sit up, but he hurt too damned much. What had happened? Where was his boy?

“Just tell me what occurred!” He ground out from between clenched teeth. “Now!”

“Snape, it was terrible, horrific! You were screaming, such screaming as I have never heard! Merlin, never, ever anything like that. Not even in Azkaban. Harry... no, _Farid,_ he was like a wild thing, desperately trying to get to you. We tried to hold him back because we didn’t know what was happening, whether there was danger or not, but his magic, it just exploded. I have never seen anything like it in my whole life. The raw power that boy possesses! He is not big, but, Hairy Hippogriffs, the strength in him! At one point Remus was actually sitting on him, whilst Albus tried to examine you, but Farid was not having any of that. We ended up on the ceiling, not Ron or Hermione, but Remus and Albus and I. He didn’t hurt us. He just wanted us out of the way. He was screaming too.

“’You can’t have him. He is mine, my Master.’ In that mad accent he has! Then he grabbed your arm and started shouting again, only this time in parseltongue. He is a Parselmouth, Snape.

"After a moment or two he collapsed, and we just drifted down and landed gently. He was slumped across your chest, barely breathing, and you didn’t seem much better. After all that screaming, because I think we were all doing it at one point, the room seemed so quiet. It was eerie, unearthly. We could feel your pain, his pain. It was almost like he was taking your agony on himself and broadcasting it to us. Then that weird stillness. For a moment, we thought you were dead. 

"But Ron was already kneeling beside you, and Hermione was checking your, what did she call it ‘plus’? To see if you were alive she said. And then Ron shouted out, and we all crept closer and that… that is when we saw it… Severus. The Dark Mark is gone.”

Severus tried to get up, then thought better of it, it just _hurt_ too much to move right now. So instead, he lifted his left arm to have a look. He would not believe it until he had seen it for himself. His breath caught in his throat, and he made a strange croaking noise. His forearm was completely unadorned. For the first time since he was seventeen years old, the hideous blemish was missing.

He felt like he had been frozen in time, petrified. He just held his arm in front of his face and stared.

“Um… _Snape,_ are you okay?”

“The bond is still there,” Severus muttered.

“What?”

“The bond with Farid hasn’t changed, I can feel it. It feels the same. Just the same.”

“Nnno. Dumbledore thinks it hasn’t. He had Fawkes look at it yesterday, but we won’t really know until Farid wakes up.”

“Is he alright, Black? I mean, I think he is. It feels like he is. But he is not hurt, is he?”

“He seems fine, Se…er Snape. He’s just unconscious, from the amount of magic he produced, the power he expended. You have both been unconscious for two days now.”   
Then he said, “I need to ask you something.”

He peered up at Severus from under his brows, and Severus said nothing, merely waited for whatever it was Black wanted to say.

“I…erm…When Poppy undressed Harry to examine him, she found some scars, um they looked to be old. Did the vampires do them, Severus? Did he get them before? How did he get to be a slave? Do you know? Because erm….I don’t understand. He’s had such a bad time, and I don’t know him at all. Is…is he very damaged?”

Severus looked at him coldly.

“Just what are you trying to say, Black?” he asked.

Sirius Black looked crestfallen. Diminished. Like he was in deep waters and did not know how to swim. When he looked up at Severus his eyes were shining with tears.  
“He’s James’ son,” he said, quite unnecessarily in Severus’ opinion. “I promised to look after him. But I really did not do a good job, did I? 

“Don’t answer that, it was a rhetorical question. He was such a happy baby. Lily said he never even cried when he was teething. He always smiled and laughed when he saw me. I thought he was safe with Lily’s sister. But when I got out of Azkaban, and I heard he was missing, I had to find him. It was like an obsession. But you found him instead, and he is so different from what I was expecting.”

Severus sneered at him. “Don’t you like the fact that your godson was, what did you call him again? Oh yes! A whore. A _fuck toy_ .”

Black choked back a sob.

“Please, Snape. I am so sorry for what I said. I hurt him. I hurt you too, and I am so very sorry. I was bang out of order, and Weasley was right to lay one on me.”

He looked up again, this time he had a rueful grin on his face. “The Gryffindor hour glass has an extra sixty beads. No one will admit to awarding them, but I think it was Albus and Remus! You would never award extra counters to Gryffindor, would you?

“And I fucking deserved that smack. I know I did. I see now. I understand. He really loves you. He was absolutely frantic when Voldemort was torturing you. Nothing and nobody else seemed to matter. And I do want to do what’s best, so I’ll help. Both of you. In any way I can.”

Severus stared at him for a long moment. Then he began to speak.

“The scars come from his uncle. He used to beat him and burn him. He has skin around his scrotum that is scarred too. That’s where his aunt scrubbed him with bleach. The word carved into his hip, his uncle did that. He tied him down to the kitchen table one day, and did it with a knife. Farid said he’d had too much to drink. He thought that _Freak_ was his name till he went to school. 

“Yusuf, the Master Vampire, told me that he found Farid on a doorstep in February. He’d been beaten and was wearing nothing other than an oversized shirt. They fed him, and were nice to him sometimes he said, when he did what they wanted. They didn’t hate him either, and that was better than his uncle, too. He didn’t used to see very well, Farid told me, so they corrected his eyesight and then glamoured his eyes, because they didn’t like the colour. 

“They looked after him better than his family did in many ways. They used him, and beat him, but the scars that they left can’t be seen. And he could have stopped it at any time, just by telling them about his magic, but he didn’t want to be evil. The turning would have destroyed the bond, because it would have killed him. He would have been undead. 

“So he kept his magic secret, for years, because he was frightened about what they might manage to do with his power at their disposal.”

Severus throat hurt. It was still tender from the screaming, and now it was raw from emotion too. When he looked up, Black had his head buried in his hands, and his shoulders were shaking. He was sobbing.

Then Severus did something he would never have thought possible; he reached over to Black, put his hand on the man’s shoulder and squeezed.

It did the trick. Black stopped crying and looked at him with unbridled astonishment. They sat for a moment eye to eye, unmoving, until finally Black spoke.

“If you plan on paying a little visit to that uncle of his, I’ll come with you,” he said.

Severus smiled. It was not a nice smile; it was cold, cruel, calculating. But when he extended his hand, Black took it and they shook on the deal.

“By the way, Black,” Severus said, still smirking, “Those glass beads? Just so you know, I was responsible for awarding twenty of them!”

 

 

When Farid awoke, the hospital wing was quiet. Not that he knew where he was. He panicked a little bit when he first awoke, but it was okay, because Master was close. He felt exhausted, even worse than with the vampires, than when he ran from the hall and Master came to get him. 

He had been so very scared when he had seen Master in pain. He closed his eyes again and tried to calm his breathing. He put his hand against his cheek in that comfort gesture that was all he had had for so long, and his teeth began to nibble at his lower lip.

He seemed to be wearing a strange backwards shirt that did not do up properly behind. He sat up and winced at the soreness in his head, but he wanted Master, and he had to find him. 

Albus Grey Beard was sitting beside his bed in a peculiar flowery chair. He was snoring gently, making his moustache rise with the funny little growly breaths that he was taking, but Farid was not worried about getting past him. He was very good at being unnoticed when he needed to be.

It hurt a lot when he stood up, his head throbbed and so did just about everywhere else, come to that. But Farid had been in far worse pain than this, and he had dealt with it. This need was greater than his discomfort. He needed his Master.

The room, wherever it was, was dark. It had big windows that showed the night sky, and in the glimmers of moonlight, Farid saw his master in a bed close by. He padded over on bare feet to see how Master was, but he was sleeping. It was not a natural sleep; Farid could feel through the bond that Master had been given something. A potion perhaps? But Farid needed to feel him close. He could not untie the shirt on his own, so he simply vanished it, so that his skin could touch Master. He climbed under the sheets and Master, unconscious though he was, wrapped his arms around Farid. 

And Farid’s heart filled with love. 

It had been awful earlier when Voldemort had attacked. He had been able to feel his Master’s agony. He had put his hands on that awful brand that Master had worn, the one that he had always avoided touching; so much corruption had it contained. At once, he had been instantly connected to the mind of the evil wizard that had created it.

“Ahh,” the evil one had said. “Now I see you, Harry Potter. 

“You can’t hide much longer, you know? But first, before I come for you, I am going to execute a spy!”

He had tried to kill Master, and Farid was not having that. When Voldemort pushed his perverted magic down the bond, Farid had sent it back. Tenfold. He had hurt him. Hurt him quite a lot. He had felt the other wizard’s suffering in his mind, _his_ agonised screams replacing Master’s. 

Then, just to be sure, he had removed the Mark. He had screamed at it to be gone, to leave Master forever. He had pushed with his mind, imagined it gone, and the snake had vanished in an instant, and then the skull had dissolved, and Master had been freed. But, all the while, his heart had been pounding in his ears, and it had felt like someone was squeezing it tight in his chest. The pain had grown and grown, until finally everything had gone dark, and he had known no more, until now.

He snuggled down under the covers, warm and cosy now. Knowing that Voldemort would take a while to recover from the magical backlash that Farid had created. So just for a while, for tonight at least, Farid knew that he was safe, and he drifted off to sleep held tight and protected in his Master’s arms.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

Thanks to my lovely betas Kim and thequeenanne - love ya girls

 

Chapter Twenty Five

When Severus awoke he had an arm full of Farid. The boy was completely naked and sprawled over his master with total abandonment. His hair had worked itself loose from the single plait in which he usually wore it and tumbled freely across his shoulders. Severus raised his free hand to stroke it. Soft and silky as it was, playing with Farid’s hair was a singularly erotic experience, and Severus was hooked. 

He would never allow him to get it cut he thought, and then he realised with a pang exactly what had just gone through his mind. It hardly boded well for freeing Farid if this was how he thought about him. If Farid were free, it would be up to him whether he cut his hair or even stayed with Severus come to that. He placed a tender kiss on the top of the boy’s head, and Farid sighed gently in his sleep. 

Severus felt, rather than heard a small noise. He looked up to see Dumbledore watching him, and couldn’t help himself as he started at the old wizard’s presence. 

“Albus, I didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Sorry, my boy. I did not mean to startle you. I was looking for Harry. I fell asleep beside his bed last night. Must be part of growing old eh? When I woke up he was gone.”

His expression softened somewhat. “He truly is a remarkable young man, is he not? To live through what he has lived through and yet to be able to love so much? That is more amazing than even his magic I think. 

"He seriously damaged Voldemort you know Severus? The Dark Lord has gone to ground. The reports that we have received tell us that he is not even in the country right now, and several Death Eaters have defected. Not very prominent ones right enough, but still. He has halted the march of dark forces, Severus, even if only for a while. Untrained and with wild magic, he has done more damage than anyone else has ever managed against Tom Riddle. Well, since he stood against him last as a child at least. I now think that he was the Dark Lord’s equal when he was little more than a baby. He is much more powerful now. When he is trained to fight Severus, just think of what he can do!”

“Just wait a minute Albus,” Severus was pushing himself into a more upright position. Farid however did not stir. He slumped down his master’s chest somewhat, but other than that, he slept on unaware of their visitor.  
Severus was getting agitated now though. 

”Farid is mine Albus. You will not take him away for training. He has enough _training_ in his life already.”

Albus held up his hands in supplication. “It’s alright my boy. I just meant training here at Hogwarts, in one or two spells, that’s all. But it won’t be easy to keep him away from the world forever. _The Prophet_ is going mad with speculation, and Fudge has been here all the time. He is only not around at the moment because it is 5:30 am, and I expect he is catching up on his sleep.”

“Are you threatening us Albus?” Severus growled in a low tone.

“Severus, please calm down. Of course I am not threatening you. I was afraid that you might react like this. Fawkes told me that he thought the bond had grown stronger. Looks like he might have been right.” Few people knew the power that Albus’s friend and familiar had at his disposal; he could read magic, and he and Albus were connected telepathically so he could easily communicate with the old wizard. Fawkes was so much more than a pet or a familiar, He was almost as powerful as Albus himself. The headmaster always listened to the Phoenix. As far as Severus knew, he was very rarely wrong.

But right now Severus just felt cold. Goose flesh popped up on his arms and neck, and he shivered, “What do you mean, Albus?” he asked tentatively 

“Fawkes thought the bond might have a stronger effect on you from now on, make you more jealous, more possessive. Harry saved your life my boy, if he had not fought Voldemort in the way that he did then, quite simply, you would be dead. None of us could help you. You were in agony, screaming and begging for release, and Harry protected you. He stood against the most powerful dark wizard to have ever lived, and he rescued you and damaged him quite severely in the process I believe. That will make the young man even more precious to you. You will need to be aware that this might happen Severus. That you might lose control.”

Severus felt close to losing control right now.

“I can not talk about this right now Albus. He is still asleep, and we need….um I need for us to be alone for a while. Farid is exhausted too, he needs to sleep.”

“I’ll leave you in peace then child. I have cast a privacy spell around this bed that will last until you release it. No one will be able to disturb you for a while, not even me. And Severus, if you do need to talk, then I am here for you. Sometimes this war has made me do things that I will always regret. What happened to that child in your arms is the biggest regret of my life. But we do need him; he is all that we have. He has the power to save so many innocent lives; he has to fulfil his destiny. We have no choice. Take care of him my boy”

The eyes that met Severus’ then were as old as time and infinitely sad.

Then he turned away and left.

Severus tried to still his rising agitation; he looked down at his boy to see gorgeous green eyes watching him solemnly. 

He felt an unaccountable wave of anger. Had Farid been listening? How could he have risked his life in the way he had? The world wanted his boy hmm? Well Farid was his, and he was not going to share him. Not with Fudge, Dumbledore or anyone else come to that. He wanted to take his boy and leave. Severus could care less about all of those innocent people that Albus was talking about; they had never cared about him after all! He found one of Farid’s nipple rings and started to pull at it with increasing agitation. He was breathing deeply trying to calm his panic, the growing anger that threatened to engulf him.

He wanted to take his boy, he needed to be inside him, to possess him. Worse, he realised with horror he wanted to punish him, _hurt_ him. 

Farid was stroking his cheek. “It okay Masteerr,” Farid said. “It ze bond. It make dyou feel like dis.”

Severus was trembling now. Fighting desperately against the feelings, the desires, that had seemed to come from nowhere and were pulsing through him with increasing urgency. He was fighting a losing battle.

“Farid, I have to take you. I have to be inside you, or I’ll hurt you. I….can’t….control…it.” 

“S’okay Masteerr. I know, I feel hit too.”

Then Severus had the boy on his back, legs up, bottom exposed. He was overcome with need; he had to be inside Farid. He had to mark him, make him his. He couldn’t see properly now, his head was pounding. It was almost as if the bond had taken over his mind, his desire. It was ruling him, forcing him to subjugate Farid. He had enough presence of mind to growl, “Hard Farid!” And then he was inside his boy, pounding into him. He leaned over and bit into Farid’s naked shoulder drawing a yell of pain from the boy, and then he was sobbing, messily, openly. 

It was all over so quickly. Mere minutes later, and he was coming hard inside the tight hotness of Farid’s anus. “Come now, Farid.” he sobbed, “Come now.” And Farid did, obedient as always, but he could have had little time to get any pleasure from the act itself. It had been too short, too urgent.

He fell forward and gave into his grief. This time it was Farid who was stroking his master to comfort him, whilst Severus muttered, “M’sorry, so sorry.”

Farid just continued to caress him, running his fingers through Severus hair. Hair that had once been lank and greasy but which shone with health since Farid had taken over the washing of it.

“Farid, oh Farid,” he sobbed. The need that had ruled him just moments before had dissipated as rapidly as it had come upon him. He wanted to console the boy that he had just used so roughly, but Farid was still shushing him, crooning softly.

“Is Albus right?” He finally croaked out, “Has the bond changed Farid?”

“I zink zo Masteerr, but not for me. For dyou I zink jes?”  
“Will I hurt you? I wanted to.” Then, “Will this happen more Farid?” He could feel the levels of agitation rising again, but he angrily tamped them down. “Oh Merlin, Farid. I _did_ hurt you just then, didn’t I? I bit you, I marked you and then I came into you with out preparation, and you are still so tired. Did Albus wake you?” He had lifted his head from Farid’s chest where had lain it after their frantic coupling and now he lifted his hand too to cup the boy’s cheek, tenderly.

“It does not matter Masteerr,” the boy replied, “I ham okay I zink. It vas not Alboos zat vake me, it ze bond. I feel it also. I know dyou have need. Zis mean I cannot sleep, no cry Masteerr, pleas no cry?”

Severus knelt up and scooped Farid into his arms. Once again he was overcome with tenderness. “I will break this fucking bond,” he whispered into the slave’s hair, his soft, silky locks. “I will, I promise. I cannot live like this, continuing to use you.” But Farid just smiled at him. The boy was drifting back to unconsciousness, his eyes becoming glassy. He had expended so much raw power to save Severus, and in return, he had been fucked into the mattress

“S’okay, Masteerr,” he muttered. “S’okay.”

He was exhausted and he needed sleep. Severus had to try to protect him, from Fudge, from Dumbledore, but most of all he had to protect him from Severus himself.

An hour later and they were still entwined on Severus’ bed. He wondered how long the boy could keep turning to him like this. How long before he began to hate him. Farid seemed to feel no resentment against Severus, which, to a genius at holding on to old slights such as Severus was, seemed completely unbelievable. 

The boy had grabbed a handful of Severus’ pajama top and had the fabric pressed against his cheek, and Severus almost started to sob again. But he continued to ruthlessly tamp down his feelings instead. Whenever he began to feel upset, he noticed that the boy stirred, murmuring in his sleep and furrowing his brow. Watching Farid sleep like this, Severus realised just how connected they were, and as he lay there watching Farid’s chest fall and rise with the easy breaths of slumber, Severus began to make plans.

Poppy came in at about 7 o’clock, as soon as Severus removed the privacy ward; she stood beside them both enquiringly.

Shortly after that Severus had sent for Hermione, Ron and Draco and Remus Lupin.

Farid had been very difficult to wake, and once he had opened his eyes he had been worried about drinking the Dreamless Sleep potion that Severus pressed upon him. Severus insisted though and of course the boy complied. He looked so vulnerable sitting up, with a sheet wrapped around him sipping the potion which had been mixed with a nutritious milkshake. He lifted the beaker to his lips and stared at Severus over the top of the cup with his large, frightened eyes fixed accusingly on his master. Severus knew instinctively that the boy was scared of being drugged and left alone. But he also knew that he needed sleep and Severus had a lot to do that day. A lot to organise.

He sat down on the bed beside Farid and talked to him soothingly. “Do not worry sweetheart,” he said. “You need to rest. Do you understand? You will not be on your own though, Ron or one of the others will sit with you all day whilst I am away, and you will not be here. Madam Pomfrey has organised a private room, and no one will be able to get in but your friends and me.”

Farid’s eye’s filled with tears, and he trembled slightly. Severus thought perhaps he was remembering the last time that he had left the boy alone. “It won’t be for long,” he promised, “and I’ll be back before you wake. You will not be alone love, I promise. 

“Can you stand?”

He took the beaker from Farid, and checking that it was indeed empty, he placed it on the bedside table. He gestured for Farid to lift his arms and cast a simple cleaning charm before popping a clean, sweet smelling nightgown of his own over the boy’s head and smoothing it down. It was huge on him, but at least it covered him more effectively than the hospital gown, or Severus’s favourite silky pajamas.

Farid swung his legs out of bed and tried to stand, but he went crashing heavily to the ground before Severus could catch him. The potion took longer to act than that, even on someone who was as currently weak as Farid obviously was. Severus felt dreadful. Farid’s collapse just confirmed his suspicion about how fatigued the boy was, how exhausted, and didn’t that make his earlier behavior even worse? He scooped him up and carried him into the room that Poppy had set aside. Severus was dressed now, and this time Farid grabbed a handful of his master’s robes, reluctant to let go. 

“Pleas Masteerr,” he whispered. “Jon’t leave me.” Severus just kissed the top of his head and nuzzled him gently. 

“It’s okay my love,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

Weasley was already waiting for them, munching a bacon roll.

“Hi mate, good to see you,” he grinned at Farid. And tired though the boy was, he could not help grinning back, so infectious was Weasley’s happiness this morning. “I hear you gave that bastard Voldemort a good kicking? Well done you!”

Severus could feel his boy relax, and he blessed whatever god had brought the youngest Weasley into their lives. He tucked Farid under the soft fluffy duvet that Poppy had unearthed and tenderly stroked his cheek. The boy grabbed his hand then but without the earlier urgency, and Severus leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. “Just rest love,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.” Then he turned to Ron, “Call for me if he needs anything and look after him this time!” 

Then he spun around and stalked out of the room, ready to face the day he had planned.


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Six

 

Kim and thequeenanne, you know I love you ladiesxxx

 

It was late when he returned. Farid’s room was lit only dimly, just enough light in fact for Hermione to be able to read from her Arithmancy book. She looked up as he came in.

“Hello Professor, he is still asleep, hasn’t woken all day.” She looked at the boy who was curled under the covers in a foetal position with an anxious expression creasing his brow. “He looks so petite and fragile like that, doesn’t he? Hard to believe that all that strength and energy fits into such a small frame, isn’t it?”

Severus knew exactly what she meant. When Farid was awake he seemed to light up a room, he fairly crackled with life and energy. But asleep, he looked young, defenseless. It was hard to believe that this fragile creature had survived what he had in his life, and then gone on to stand against an evil wizard with so little fear.

He nodded at Hermione and then asked “Any luck on the search?” They had spoken at length earlier about the bond and its effects on him. Between them, she and Lupin were the only two people apart from himself and Farid who knew the full impact that it seemed to be having. Even Draco, who had been drafted in to help with the potions that Severus had decided to take, knew only the basics.

Severus had had a busy day. Once he had left Farid with Weasley, he had arranged to meet with both Hermione and Draco. Hermione, he told about the bond and some of the compulsions that it seemed to force upon both him and Farid. As she was already eighteen, she did not need a pass to the restricted section of the library, and it seemed that she had spent almost the entire day there searching the stacks for information. But as yet, she had found nothing to help them. She promised that she would continue the search the next day and the next. He knew that confirmed seeker of knowledge that she was; she would never give up until she found the answer she sought.

His answer  
.  
He sent her off to her own bed, but suspected that she would probably do a little more reading before the night was through. He crossed the room to be with Farid. It was his turn now to be beside a hospital bed and wait for the occupant to wake and, as he drew closer, he felt calmer than he had all day. His slave seemed to sense his presence as well, as he uncurled a bit from his protective position and the frown that had marred his forehead disappeared. 

Severus smiled down at the boy and decided that he would take him back to his own quarters. It was very late and there would be no one around. Madam Pomfrey had long since gone to bed he knew, but he had warned her that this might be a possibility. He gently pulled back the covers and lifted the boy into his arms. 

The nightgown had fallen from one shoulder, exposing the livid bruise left by Severus’s bite that morning. Part of him wondered why the school nurse had not healed it, and yet another part thrilled with the fact that the boy had worn his mark all day. All at once, he had his answer. Poppy obviously understood more than he gave her credit for. She had realised about the compulsion and knew that he needed to leave his mark on the otherwise mostly unblemished skin. 

Because he was unblemished now, Severus was certain. The scars left by his uncle were easy enough to clear up Poppy had said; they contained no residual magic, unlike the scar on his forehead. No, those scars had been made out of nothing other than cruelty, and Farid deserved to have them removed. So Poppy had removed them, sometime today when Farid slept. Severus would check properly later, but right this minute he was going to take Farid home to their bed. 

Farid shivered a bit now that he was out of the warmth of his cosy nest of covers, so Severus wrapped his robes about him and started the journey back to the dungeons. He knew that finally the boy was safe, well from him at least 

He and Draco had spent much of the day working on the potions he was determined to take, to stop the sort of behaviour that had happened this morning, and he was fairly confident that they would work. 

One was an anti-compulsion elixir. It would not stop Severus’ feelings, but it would give him a fighting chance to overcome them, he hoped. He had first devised the recipe as a way to try and combat the _Imperius,_ but it had only ever worked partially. Severus had added daisy root and alchemilla mollis, and he thought the combination of these two might help direct the efficaciousness of the potion. 

The other potion that he had taken, was Anti-Lust. This, he knew would work. It was the potion he had always taken on those night-time raids with the Death Eaters. The last thing he had ever wanted to be on any of those nightmarish escapades was aroused by the pain of others, and he knew from the reactions of his companions that such arousal was all too common. 

Draco had helped him enormously, chopping and stirring and watching the potions as they brewed. Severus had been unable to undertake these tasks as he had been otherwise engaged much of the time. But Draco had sequestered Seamus Finnegan to help him. Severus had not been too happy about this at first, but since he had wanted the potions ready today, then he had to have help. Finnegan had risen to the occasion quite admirably, Severus was surprised to see, and if his fingers did graze Draco’s occasionally when they prepared the ingredients, and if their eyes did linger on each other for a little too long, then who was Severus to complain?

Severus had to speak to Lupin. They had had breakfast together. It was the longest time they had ever spent with each other and, by far, the most civil. No one understood an overwhelming compulsion in the way that Lupin did, Severus believed. If any one could understand his behaviour and perhaps at least forgive Severus, even if he didn’t condone his treatment of Farid, then it had to be Lupin.

The meeting had been very uncomfortable indeed to begin with. Lupin watched him closely with those unfathomable amber eyes of his and Severus had felt judged. He had also never truly overcome that fear of werewolves that he had developed on the night that he had nearly died, thanks to Black’s vicious trickery. Recent events in Kazakhstan had only really added to the problem. 

They had been in Lupin’s chambers, a series of light airy rooms, which were close to the man’s spiritual home in the Gryffindor Tower. Every surface, it seemed, was covered with photographs; a smiling Black astride a large motorbike, several of James and Lily Potter, some of which contained a smiling baby Harry held by one or the other of the couple. Also scattered around were at least half a dozen shots of a happy, grinning girl whose hair ranged from bright yellow to deep purple; sometimes even in the same photo. 

Lupin had come into the room and laid the tray he was carrying at the table that was placed next to the window and turned to look at him. Severus was holding a photo of the Potters.

“They all look so happy, don’t they?” Lupin commented. 

Severus nodded once rather curtly and replaced the photo.

“Just as well that they never lived to see Harry in my clutches, then.” he said somewhat bitterly, “They would have hated that.”

Lupin looked at him steadily. “I think, Severus,” he said, carefully, “that you are very far from the worst thing that has ever happened to Harry.”

Severus gazed at him steadily, betraying a vulnerability that he did not wish to own.

“You found him, and you rescued him.” Lupin continued, “It might not have been deliberate, but you did it and now we have him back, if you will allow it, that is? I would like to get to know Lily and James’ son, if Sirius has not ruined that for me with his idiotic behaviour? I would like another photo or two to add to my collection.” 

Severus gaped at him. He was not expecting that. Lupin had not launched into a verbal attack about Severus’ treatment of Farid. The sad looks, that the werewolf had given Farid from time to time, said everything, in Severus’ opinion. They said that Severus was not fit to be with the golden child of Lily and James, never mind get so much obvious pleasure from his ownership of the boy’s body. But maybe those looks had not been condemnation and had meant something else, after all?

“I want to free him.” he said, “I am well aware of the fact that, if I do free him, he may leave me and never come back. But he… he does not deserve slavery, no one does. There has to be some way of breaking the bond. Miss Granger is looking into it for me. I….I don’t like what the bond makes me do sometimes, it makes me savage, dominating… I hurt him… I use him and that has to stop. It is not right, it is not dignified.” Severus was looking at his lap; he felt his cheeks burning with the shame of his revelation. 

“And you are telling me because I understand exactly what it is like to be forced to behave a certain way by an unreasonable compulsion?”

Severus nodded. He was still waiting for Lupin to denounce him for the misuse and abuse of the son of two of his oldest and most cherished friends.

“I was there when he removed the Dark Mark, Severus.” Lupin said finally, “If I had had any doubts about how Harry… how _Farid_ felt about you, they would have shattered then. He obviously adores you. Slavery bonds are not common any longer in our world, but after Lily and James died, and Sirius went to Azkaban, I travelled.” He looked sadly at Severus, and Severus found that he was not quite able to meet the other man’s eyes. “I saw a number of slaves, all of them subservient, devoted. But none of them looked at their masters like Farid looks at you. He loves you, Severus.

I can’t believe how stupid we all were back then. We hated you. You hated us. I truly believed that Sirius killed Peter and Harry… why, the poor little boy he slipped through the safety net he should have had, and ended up with those monsters who were related to Lily. It is our fault what happened to him. I wasn’t allowed to look after him, so I took myself off for a ten year sulk, and all the time Harry was being so abused, so tortured that I can’t even bear to think about it. 

Albus is guilty too, because he never went to check and Sirius for being such a hot-headed fool that he walked straight into Peter’s little trap. It never should have happened. Harry is meant to be so special to us all, so precious and look what we let those monsters, _all of those monsters_ do to him. Who do you really think Lily and James would despise the most Severus? You for rescuing him, or us for putting him in the situation where he needed to be rescued at all?”

“Believe me Severus; you have no guilt to carry in this situation at all. Not as far as I’m concerned.”

This time Severus did meet Lupin’s gaze, and he lifted his hand to shake with the werewolf, affirming their new alliance. Then bizarrely they had sat down over poached eggs and toast and milky coffee to discuss, the compulsion and how Severus might be best able to deal with it. 

Severus had told Lupin how he felt when the urges came upon him and they discussed what the warning signs might be and how Severus might deal with them. How much of the compulsion was the bond in action and how much might be generated by Severus’ own nature they were not certain, but they speculated. When they had parted they were still not friends as such, but neither were they enemies anymore either.

Severus had reached his rooms now and he whispered the password and entered through the portrait hole. Farid had hardly stirred so deeply asleep was he. Severus could really appreciate why the boy had been reluctant to take the potion this morning as it truly did leave him very vulnerable and Farid had never really had anyone to protect him before had he? He had always had to be on guard, to try to protect himself as best he could in any situation. Severus felt warmed by the level of trust that Farid must feel towards him, because despite his fear he had indeed drunk the potion as he had been told.

Severus placed him in their bed after first muttering a warming charm. Farid sighed in his sleep and Severus placed a gentle kiss on his head. Shortly after he too slipped beneath the covers beside the boy, clad in another one of his nightgowns. Farid nuzzled into him, and Severus nearly melted with tenderness. 

Severus had always been a good name for him he thought, idly, he had for most of his life been very severe. But Farid, Farid got to his tender, though well-camouflaged heart as no one else had ever managed. So he held his boy, and gently stroked his hair and stared wide eyed into the darkness. He knew he would not sleep tonight, too much had happened during the day and his mind was churning. As he lay there with Farid cuddled against him, he thought about those events and the strange alliances that he had formed during the last few momentous hours.


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Seven

Kim, thequeenanne, you know what good things you do!

 

After his breakfast with Lupin, Severus had gone downstairs only to be confronted by what seemed like several hundred people gathered in the entrance hall, and all of them seemed to be clamouring to talk to him. Or rather, talk at him, and he did not for one moment like the things that they were saying.

“There he his, that’s him.” someone commented in gruff tones. “He’s the one that’s enslaved Harry Potter.”

“Shame,” someone else muttered, “They shouldn’t have let a Death Eater anywhere near the saviour, precious boy that he is.”

Someone else shouted, “Where is he, you bastard? What have you done with Harry Potter?”

But in an instant, moving far more quickly that a man his age should be able to, Albus was beside him at the foot of the staircase.

He held his hands up for silence.

“That will be enough,” he said, his face grave, eyes steely with determination. “Professor Snape does not deserve your condemnation. He _rescued_ Mr Potter from a horrendous captivity. There is indeed a bond between them, which were endeavouring to alter, but Mr Potter is safe and well.”

As Dumbledore finished, Fudge came forward. “Well, so you say, Albus, so you say. But where is he? The boy should be down here if he is so well and safe. I for one want to see him.” There were murmurings of support from the crowd. “If there is a bond, then I do not think it should be left in the control of a Death Eater. The boy is too important. If he is indeed the Chosen One, then he should be taken into protective custody.” He puffed his chest up with self importance, “I would be willing to take on the bond, for the good of the magical community.” 

There were a few scattered cheers from the crowd. They were mostly Ministry officials and press, but there were or two ‘worried parents’ in amongst them and quite a number, no doubt, who were here to catch a glimpse of the boy saviour.

Albus had lifted his hands again for silence, but this time no-one seemed to want to listen to what he had to say and Fudge, meanwhile, looked more self important than ever.  
Severus heart sank. There was no way that anyone here was going to get their hands on his boy. The thought of what Fudge would have to do to claim Farid, made him sick to his stomach. He would hex and run if he had to, but, until this moment, he had truly thought things were about to change and that Farid would be safe.

He was about to speak, to say something, to try to defend his position when somebody joined him on the stairs. He turned to see who it was and saw, to his horror, the smug, odious features of Sirius Black. 

Severus felt like giving up. Despite the tentative accord he and Black had reached the day before, he knew the man was still not a friend and this could be just the opportunity that he was waiting for. If he were to claim Farid in front of this crowd, it would be very difficult, if not impossible to stand against him.

“Thank you, Minister,” Black smarmed, forcing Severus to remember that the man was a pureblood and that, if he wanted to manipulate this situation to his advantage and secure Farid for himself, he was almost certain to succeed. “It is so good to see that the Ministry has my godson’s best interests at heart. But Harry is a legal adult and he chooses to stay with Severus. I do believe he loves him very much.” 

Severus nearly choked at Black’s casual use of his first name, especially after he had denied it to him just the day before. Although, more than anything, it was his casual defence of Severus, that really shocked him. Instead of claiming Harry and denouncing him to everyone as Severus half expected, what Black had said to the group assembled before them rocked him to the core. 

“But how can we know that the boy has made the right choice? He has been a captive since childhood. He could be being influenced by this… by this… ” Fudge was stuttering. He was obviously searching for an insult to use that was bad enough to denounce him to the crowd, Severus thought.

But Black jumped in again at this point. “I assure you, Minister, my godson is far from the broken, damaged individual that you seem to envisage. He is strong and capable and he chooses to stay with Severus Snape.” Here Black threw his arm around Severus’ shoulder in a gesture of comradeship and Severus determined that he would pay him back for this later, with interest! “Severus and I have not always seen eye to eye in the past,” Black was continuing, “but we are in accord over this. Harry is exhausted. He needs to rest, and Severus and I have somewhere else to be today. 

And as for Severus being a Death Eater, you all know that recently he was unmasked as a spy.” Severus was fuming now. Black had conveniently forgotten to say that he, Black, was the one who had done the unmasking. “Severus has bravely fought for the side of light for nearly twenty years!”

“Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater!” someone in the crowd shouted.

“Oh, my dear sir, I don’t think so!” Black rejoindered. He turned to Severus then and, giving him a small bow, extended a hand.

“May I Severus?” he asked. Severus nodded once curtly and Black took hold of his arm, rolled back his sleeve, and exposed the bare, unmarked flesh for everyone to see.  
The crowd gasped.

“Harry removed the Mark.” Black continued. “Severus has no allegiance to evil. He is a very brave man and a worthy consort for my godson! Now, if you will excuse us, we have some where else to be.”

And with that, he swept from the room with Severus following in his wake. 

They left a far from happy crowd behind them, and Severus was seething silently at his treatment. He waited until they were safely ensconced in Albus’ office before exploding, “You bastard! You enjoyed that, didn’t you? ‘Brave man’ indeed, ‘recently unmasked.’ You were the stupid idiot that unmasked me!”

“Oh suck it up, Snivellus,” Black sneered back at him. “What was I supposed to say? I defended you, didn’t I? Do you really think I like you oiling yourself all over Harry? It seems to be what he wants though, and I have already fucked up any relationship I might have developed with him enough, so somehow, Merlin knows how! You and I are going to have to get along. It sure as heck won’t be easy though, because you are, and have always been, such a snarky git!”

The two men were standing nose to nose now shouting at one another. Just then Albus walked in. 

“Well done, my boys!” He said, chuckling as he spoke, “Well done indeed! Fudge has headed off with quite a flea in his ear; he will want to meet with Harry in a few days, I think. But right now, I think we have something else to discuss, do we not?”

Albus went and sat at his desk. He seemed determined to completely ignore the fact that Severus and Black looked set to tear each other to shreds right then and there. 

“I assume that you are considering taking a short trip to Surrey today, are you not?”

The two men turned and looked at him in astonishment.

“If so, I might just have a small instrument, which I use very rarely and certainly will not miss, that you can take with you. I would hope that there would be no permanent maiming or visible scars. We don’t want any problems with Muggle-Magical relations now, do we? I must head downstairs for a chat with Minerva right now, but there is a box on the desk that might just interest you. The instructions are inside.” 

With that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and total raving lunatic, swept out of his office in his clashing purple and yellow robes.

Sirius and Severus looked at each other and, for the first time in their more than twenty year association, in complete accord, they laughed until tears streamed down their faces.

 

Privet Drive was quiet. It was nine thirty in the morning and many of its inhabitants had already left for work and school. But today, the Dursleys had unaccountably all come down with a bug. Nothing serious really, they had all just decided that they felt very tired and couldn’t really manage work today. 

Of course, this meant that Dudley and Vernon both stayed in bed and Petunia ran up and down, from room to room waiting on them hand and foot. But both men were feeling too sorry for themselves and Petunia was really too busy to hear the two subtle pops that sounded then just outside their front door.

Petunia came rushing down the stairs. She had just put the kettle on to boil and was going to make some nice hot tea for Vernon and Dudders when she caught sight to the two black-clad strangers standing at the bottom of her stairs.  
Petunia Dursley screamed.

Vernon was out of bed, in a dressing gown, and on his way down stairs with surprising alacrity for a man of his size.  
“What is it, dear?” he was shouting, but he trailed off as he saw the two sinister figures in front of him. 

Lupin had been the one to visit the house when they had been searching for Harry initially, so Severus had been told, so the Dursleys had not seen Sirius since Lily and James wedding. And as far as he knew they had never seen Severus. Both men had chosen to dress carefully in suitably wizarding clothing. 

After the boy’s letters had been returned, Hagrid had gone to see the family first. When he had been unable to get information about the boy, then the werewolf, as the most outwardly Muggle looking had been chosen. He would have been polite and courteous; Severus and Black planned no such consideration.

Severus could not help but think that Lupin’s visit had been a dreadful mistake. If he had gone , or even Black come to that, much as he despised the sanctimonious arsehole, they would have gotten to the truth far sooner and Farid would maybe have been found earlier and spared so much pain. 

But then again, maybe, just maybe, if these wretched Muggles had contacted them the night that the boy had disappeared they could have tracked him down almost at once. Followed the clear fresh trail left by his disappearance and Harry, the child that Farid had been, would never have had to deal with rape and slavery at all.

He wanted to rip the fat man’s arms off torture him into insanity; slowly peel his skin away, using magic of course so that he would last that much longer. And from the look of him, fine upstanding Gryffindor that he was, Black felt just the same.

But Black was speaking now. “Ah Petunia, Vernon,” he purred. “So good to see you after all these years. I am James’ friend, Harry’s godfather. You may remember me? I am not long out of prison for the murder of twelve Muggles. I heard how you had treated Harry and decided I wanted to come and see you for myself!” The couple who were still trapped on the stairs had gone pale at this pronouncement. But Black was continuing, “This is my friend Severus, he is a Death Eater. He loves torturing Muggles too, preferably to death, don’t you, Severus?”

Severus could not bring himself to speak at this point. He had never expected such slow subtlety from Black, he had always thought of him as a ‘bludgeon them into acceptance’ kind of guy. But then of course, how could he have forgotten, Black was a founding member of the Marauders; the slow build up was one of his specialities, was it not? He should know they had used it on him often enough. So instead, he just smiled. Severus’ smiles were rarely pleasant so he was not surprised when Petunia screamed again.

Dudley Dursley had finally dragged himself out of bed to come and see what all the noise was about, and Black grinned evilly at him. “Ah, hello there!” he said. “If I am not mistaken, it is Harry’s beloved cousin. The one who was so kind and caring towards him, although perhaps not.” Black stood aside, “I suggest you come downstairs and join us in your hideous lounge.” he said quietly. 

“You just see here,” Vernon began, but Black interrupted him before he could finish.

“NOW!!”

Seconds later, and the family were seated on the brown velour three-piece suite that formed the main furniture in the room. Petunia was sobbing softly to herself and Severus might have felt sorry for her if he had not known what terrors Farid had had to endure because of her cruelty and neglect. 

“I suggest you are quiet, madam,” Severus said. “My colleague is rather volatile, and he so does not like being interrupted when he has something to say.” Then he turned his newly discovered evil grin on Black and said in silky tones,

“Do go on with what you were about to tell them, Sirius.” Black nodded at him and began to speak.

“Just recently, not more than a few short years ago, a friend of mine came looking for my godson. He had been placed with you and we all hoped that he would be safe, with people who loved him, away from the prying eyes of the wizarding world.”

“That Freak! Disgusting little animal that he was, filthy little beast, and you expected us to look after him?”

“SILENCE!” Black shouted, waving his wand over all the Dursleys. “You have not earned the right to speak! You will not be able to speak until I tell you to, for I have no wish to hear anything that you might say. Oh, and just in case you were wondering,” he added nastily, “you won’t be able to move until I release you, or until the spell is complete either!

“I know exactly what you thought of Harry, I saw it carved into his hip, marked along his back, burnt into his inner thigh. I know what you did to Harry and now, my dear Muggles, you are going to know it too. 

“He was taken from your doorstep by evil, and tortured and raped. A child, removed from somewhere he should have been safe. Even if you could not have loved him you could have given him that.”

Black turned and leaned over Petunia, looking right into her face, right into her eyes. “Your own sister’s child. Would she have allowed such things to happen to your baby?”

When he stood up, Severus could see that his eyes sparked with emotion, glittered with tears. He was barely holding himself together and Severus understood at last that, despite it all, Black had just been trying to do the right thing. He had been searching for his friend’s child; a child who had indeed fallen into the darkest, most dreadful danger for many years, and he had been close to despair when he hadn’t found him. Black hadn’t been looking for the saviour of the wizarding world. He had just been searching for Harry.

Severus opened the box that Albus had given them. 

“This is called a _Resonator_.” he said. “Stored in the walls, in the very fabric of your house is what has happened here, like a record, a memory of events. This object only picks up on those incidents, those situations, which are painful or which caused the most distress to those that lived through them, and plays them back like one of your Muggle video players. 

But this isn’t make-believe. What you will see and hear and feel is what you did, what you allowed to happen. I have set it to go back sixteen years and to keep going until the last night that Harry spent within these walls. Somewhere here is stored all his anguish, all the loneliness and despair that you gifted him and you will feel it all just as he did.

“In twelve hours, it will all be over. And you will pack away this box and keep it safe because one day we will come for it. If it is damaged or broken then who knows what we might do to you. Keep it safe, little Muggles, until we return.”

He placed the _Resonator_. on the table and activated it with a wave of his wand. Then he stood and watched them, just for a moment whilst the heartbroken sobs of a very young child washed over them all.

“Mummy, Mummy, where are you Mummy? S’ dark, Please Mummy, want to go home!” And they heard a noise which just might have been the sound of a pair of very small hands banging on the inside of a cupboard door.

By the time he and Black apparated away both of them were sobbing.

“Was that Harry crying, do you think Severus?” the animagus asked.

Severus couldn’t speak, instead he just nodded tightly.

They were just outside the gates of Hogwarts, and Sirius turned and just hit the wall with his balled up fist. “We didn’t do enough. They need to suffer more for what they did to him.” He was on his knees now, bloody fist cradled in his lap.

“Didn’t you feel it, Black?” Severus said. “Didn’t you feel that dreadful sorrow? They have hours of that yet, and if it does not work then we go back time and time again until it does.”

“Will he be alright, Snape? Harry. Will you look after him? Please.”

“I will. I love him, you know. More than my own life.”

He extended a hand to Black, and the kneeling wizard took it with his uninjured hand and allowed himself to be helped to his feet.

Then slowly, not exactly together, but not as far apart as they once had been the two wizards had made their way up to the castle.

And now Farid, all grown up and with no memory of those early tears, was curled asleep beside Severus. Severus felt his own tears run hotly down his cheeks and into his hair and his ears where they lay and cooled. He leaned over again and placed yet another kiss on the head of his boy and quietly, when no one else could hear, he reaffirmed his promise. “I love you Farid, I will always look after you, always if you will have me.” Then despite his earlier prediction and worn about by all that had happened that day, Severus Snape drifted off to sleep.


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

A/N Sorry about the long time between updates I have been unwell. However am back to normal now so updates should return to their old regularity. Thanks to Kim and TQA for their hard work betaing

 

 

Chapter Twenty Eight

Severus was still sleeping at 8 o’clock the next morning. Farid had not the heart to wake him, he looked so content. Farid thought about how he loved his Master’s looks. He was not a classically handsome man. Farid had known enough beauties in his life to know what one looked like. Sirius Black was a beautiful man, Farid thought to himself. He had even features, sparkling eyes and a smile that lit up the room. But he did nothing for Farid. He was good at being able to see the inner man, and Black had a seam of cruelty running through his personality, a petulant air about him that Farid did not altogether trust.

But with Master it was different. Truly, he could be cruel too, he had a very cutting tongue and could reduce others to tears without much effort, but it took a lot more than a few cruel words to bother Farid. He loved the strength in his Master’s face, the kindness in his eyes, the goodness that Farid felt was a core to the man and that he rarely displayed to others. 

He was sitting beside Master on the bed; cross-legged just watching him sleep and Farid was content. Yesterday had been so hard. Farid had been exhausted, but more than that he had been very scared. Being drugged frightened him, just as being tied up did. When he had awoken this morning he had been tangled in his Master’s nightgown and for a short while he’d panicked. All too often in his life, Farid had been tied down while cruel and painful things had happened to him, so being restricted in that way terrified him. 

And Master had noticed and since that first time back at the castle, Master had never tied him up again. They had bought a drawer full of toys, that time in Knockturn Alley. But they sat unused, still in their original wrappings waiting for Farid to be ready to play with them.

Sometimes, in the past few weeks Farid had needed to wear his collar, because it made things easier somehow. When he wore his collar he did not have to think about all the things that he was expected to do now: make friends, learn to read, wear clothes and fight a murderously evil Dark Lord. 

His life had been awful before, and if master had not come along when he had Farid was not sure what would have happened to him. But his life had also been simple then. He had just had one purpose to fulfil, one that he knew he was good at and most of the time it had been very easy. Because he was well trained, and he didn’t have to think about what he was doing, and in recent years he had been punished only rarely. Of course he had been beaten and tortured fairly regularly, but that wasn’t for chastisement, that was purely for Yusuf’s pleasure and, strangely enough, he had been able to cope with that. But he hated being tied down.

When he had had bad dreams, he had tried to stifle them. But Master had noticed and when Farid needed it he would put his collar on him, then hold him close and Farid would drift back off to sleep feeling safe and secure, listening to the beat of his Master’s heart. 

He knew that he was strange. Damaged beyond repair in many ways, he thought, and Hermione despaired of him sometimes. She kept reading those books on… What was the word? Oh yes, _’Psychology,’_ and telling him what was wrong with him and how they would make him better. But Farid knew what was wrong with him. He would never be ‘normal’ like these English children were, not after what he had been, what he was. But as long as Master cared about him, Farid could cope with all of his… What did Hermione call them? _’His issues,’_ and goodness knew, he thought, he had enough of those.

What he did care about, what he was frightened about right now, was this battle he would someday have to have with Voldemort. Once Master had accepted him as Harry Potter and not rejected him, as Farid had been afraid he would do, he knew he would be able to talk to him about his fears; but as yet there had not been time. Farid was frightened of what he knew he would have to do, and he was even more aware of how big the task was since he had confronted Voldemort and been inside the Dark Lord’s mind. 

Farid knew he was powerful, but he now also knew how evil the dark wizard was. Voldemort’s vision of the future of the wizarding world was as scary as anything that had happened to Farid and the thought of such things, such awful things, happening to the people he had come to care for, terrified Farid to the very depths of his soul. He was not sure, he was far from sure, that he was strong enough to fight such pure and unmitigated evil. He had damaged the Dark Lord, he knew that, but at what cost? Voldemort knew his strength now and Farid was sure that he would recover very quickly from the blow that he had dealt him and be back for another battle and this time Voldemort would be prepared.  
But now, however it was time for Master to wake up. They had a day to face and Master hated being late. So, grinning from ear to ear, Farid burrowed under the bedcovers heading for a very special prize. Farid had the perfect method for waking his Master.

Severus was surprisingly well rested. He was also particularly sated. His orgasm that morning had been monumental. He had woken screaming his completion and Farid had just smiled up at him from beneath the duvet, green eyes shining in their catlike way. Severus had not had time to return the favour, as since Farid had not been told to be aroused, he had very evidently not been. But Severus had very definite plans for later to thank his boy for the lovely awakening. 

He was still thinking about yesterday too. He was still not sure that what he and Black had done to the Dursleys was enough. He thought he would go back and check on them in a few days, he liked his revenge nicely chilled and prolonged. It was their fault that Farid had been through so much and Severus really did not understand how Farid had managed to survive his childhood to become the wonderful creature that he was.

Today, though, they had to meet with Albus in his office and with Fudge. He had apparently not been satisfied with the explanation of the bond yesterday, and wanted to meet Harry Potter for himself. What he would make of Farid, Severus could not imagine. Farid also had to meet with Black and Lupin. Albus wanted them to discuss training with Farid and, after all their support the day before, Severus thought they at least deserved the chance to meet Lily’s and James’ son properly. So they were headed there for breakfast.

Farid looked very demure this morning in his school robes. His hair was neatly tied back as he walked along, a couple of steps behind his Master. It was reminiscent of their time in Kazakhstan and Severus was determined to break Farid of the habit. He wanted the boy to walk beside him proud and free, and one day, Severus determined, he would do just that. But right now Minerva stopped them. She did not approve of their relationship, Severus could tell. He knew by the flaring of her nostrils and the way her lips pursed whenever she saw him with Farid. The boy was one of her Gryffindors and she would have liked him up in her tower, well away from the wicked Potions Professor.

“How are you today, Professor Snape?” she asked, and then turning to Farid, “And how is Mr Potter?” Severus knew that he would never be forgiven for letting her find out who Farid was through the gossip network of Hogwarts rather than telling himself, but he hadn’t exactly had much chance before Black had outed him to the entire school, had he?  
“I ham fine zank dyou, Professor.” Farid was saying, “I sleep wery well indeed. You look wery nice today, zat colour suits dyou.”

The robe that she was wearing was a sort of sludgy tartan, but Minerva was obviously rather flattered because she almost giggled. Severus had to refrain from rolling his eyes; Farid was really good at flattery, plenty of practice over the years, Severus thought wryly. 

After simpering at Farid for a moment (and who other than Farid would ever get the redoubtable Minerva McGonagall to simper?), Minerva turned her steely gaze back to Severus. “How is he truly, Severus?” she asked, concern evident in her eyes. And he relented. Maybe she did really care about Farid. The boy was altering his relationships with everyone that he knew, making him less prickly, less defensive. So, with this in mind, he sent Farid on ahead and stopped to talk to his colleague. He soon realised that this was a big mistake.

Farid had indeed taken himself off as promised, but evidentially he had not gotten very far, for up ahead there came the sounds of some sort of disturbance. Severus didn’t wait for another second. He just gathered his robes and ran, rushing once more to the rescue of his errant boy.  
Farid was trapped by a hoard of hungry monsters; he was ensconced in the midst of the World’s Wizarding Press. There were cameras, reporters and a number of curious hangers on. This time Farid really was Daniel in the lion’s den, and these lions weren’t friendly Gryffindors either, they were ravenous and ready to destroy.

As he got closer though, he could hear what Farid was saying, so he dropped down, behind the banisters and out of sight of the crowd below, but in an excellent position to observe. Seconds later, and without much gesturing from him, Minerva joined him at his vantage point. 

Maybe he had to trust the boy, just like he had when Farid had introduced himself to the Gryffindors. That hadn’t gone badly in the end, with a little help from Albus that was. Perhaps it was time to summon the old man again? He whispered a spell and from the tip of his wand a silver spider appeared and scuttled off in the direction of Albus’ office.

“So dis is called a Chamera?” Farid asked one of the burly photographers questioningly. “Quat does hit do, Adrian?” the boy was dwarfed by the large man and was standing on tiptoe, peering enquiringly at the photographic equipment that he held.

Severus almost laughed, Farid had been there only for a few moments and yet he had already found out the photographer’s name. The man was currently trying to explain the workings of his camera to a curious boy, who was asking a stream of non stop questions. When Farid asked what photographs were there was a collective intake of breath from the tough reporters gathered in the entrance hall.

One of the crowd asked in a quiet American accent, Severus thought it was Adrian, if the boy really didn’t know. He could see Farid turn his wide green eyes to the photographer shake his head and state simply that no, he truly didn’t know what a photograph was. Adrian seemed to have bonded with Farid, or maybe the boy was just really good at zeroing in on the most sympathetic of his would-be questioners, because the man was searching through his pocket searching for something. After a moment, he triumphantly produced a small pile of what must have been personal pictures and started to show them to the boy one by one, whilst all around them flashes went off and photos were snapped. Farid was gazing at them intently and giggling a little bit, then he brushed his hair out of his eyes and there was a communal gasp as his scar was exposed. 

Then the crowd started to part and Albus wended his way from the direction of his office to where Farid was held captive by the sheer number of people surrounding him. He looked up at the Headmaster and smiled. Severus had to stuff the sleeve of his robe into his mouth to smother the laugh that threatened to escape, because quite a number of the gathered hard bitten newsmen and women collectively awwwed.

But with Albus’s arrival the questions started to fly thick and fast. 

How did the boy not know about photographs? How was he after taking on He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? How had he removed Severus’s mark? Could he do it again? How could he stay with an ex Death Eater? What was his favourite colour and what did he like for breakfast?

Between them though, Albus and Farid seemed to be managing the press with no problems at all. Albus told everyone that Farid would never have seen photographs, because Vampires cannot be captured on film. Farid said that he had been very tired after fighting Voldemort (name said in full, more gasps from gathered throng), but that Professor Snape was looking after him. That generated several rather pointed questions about Severus’ suitability to take care of such a treasured person as the Boy Who Lived. Farid turned that emerald gaze of his upon these questioners and pointed out that “Master” didn’t beat him, or keep him naked in a cage and that the only reason he had been able to remove the Dark Mark from Severus’ arm was because he loved his Master with all his heart.

Severus felt a lump in his throat when Farid said that and a strange silence fell over everyone. Finally Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet asked the boy what it was like being held captive by Vampires for so long, and Farid, who had charmed this crowd so easily, turned his green eyes on her in her turn and told them all exactly what it had been like. 

When he finished half the people present were sobbing but Farid just stood quietly as if the rapes and torture that he had described happened every day.

And Severus wondered just how many of the horrors that Farid had revealed would actually make it to the page. His story was too graphic, too terrible for the average reader to digest with his morning cuppa, and so a lot of flowery prose and editing would be needed to transform the notes taken today, he was sure.

Adrian, the photographer, asked Farid in a choked voice how on earth he had survived. Farid smiled at him and stood on tiptoe again, this time to wipe a tear from the man’s cheek, “My Masteer, che make better and hit vas not mooch vorse zan ven I live wiz my Uncle, zey really chate Me. They keep me in cupboard and beat me mooch too.” he said in a quiet voice. Then the crowd erupted in anger demanding to know how such things could be allowed to happen, and what was the Minister doing about it?

Albus had to use a temporary silencing charm to quieten them down long enough for him to say. 

“I am sure Minister Fudge will answer your questions momentarily,” the Headmaster said soothingly. “The Minister is currently in my office. First of all he needs to meet with Harry and then perhaps you can interview him too?” But neither he nor Farid moved, and Severus realised they were waiting for him. Carefully, he backed up well out of sight, before standing and heading downstairs. He met Minerva’s eyes as he stood, only to see that they were awash with tears. It was after all one thing to hear what had happened to Farid from others, it was a very different experience to hear from Farid what he had suffered in his matter of fact, no nonsense way. She squeezed his hand and then, in a gesture of moral support, accompanied him down to meet the reporters.

Severus found it a very different experience from the day before. The hostility seemed to have receded and the crowd quietly parted to let him through, not speaking, just letting him pass. Once again Farid had managed to charm everyone to support him, and questions would no doubt be asked about what Vampires had been allowed to get away with in Kazakhstan. After Farid’s graphic description, something would have to be done. And as for the Dursleys, if they had not richly deserved whatever happened to them, then Severus might have had some pity. Farid had extracted a sublime revenge. There was nowhere that they could go on the planet where they would be able to escape the pursuit of the ultra magical Wizarding Press, who would demand to know just why they had treated the beloved Saviour in such a way. It was the most perfect torture that could have been created for the family, being made to face magic and to be exposed for what they truly were.

When finally Severus reached his boy, Farid was as always delighted to see him and threw his arms about his waist. 

“Masteerr, where were dyou? I miss dyou,” he said placing a kiss on his Master’s lips, “Dyou moost meet my new friend Adrian.” And Severus found his hand gripped in the bear like paw of the American. 

“Pleased to meet ya, Professor Snape,” Adrian growled. “I hope you are taking good care of our boy here?” And Severus unable to do anything else, just nodded that yes, yes indeed he was doing his very best to do just that.

Then they headed off to keep their appointment with the Minister of Magic, whilst the press waited patiently, like a pack of hyenas, to confront the unfortunate man later on.


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

This is it till after the Holidays. Lots of real life stuff will be going on over the next few days! Many thanks as always to Kim and TQA - Love you girls! I hope you enjoy this slightly longer chappie! Happy Holidays to everyone. *hugs* Lucie

 

Chapter Twenty Nine

 

Fudge was pacing the floor of Albus’ office when they arrived, and Lupin and Black were waiting patiently. Minerva had obviously decided to tag along, and Severus thought that the whole thing was turning into some sort of circus. 

“Now Albus,” Fudge was saying “where have you been? I am a very busy man you know. I can’t be waiting about all day for you.”

“Sorry Cornelius, we were held up by the press,” Albus replied in a much more even tone than Severus would have managed under the circumstances 

“Ah, yes. The press, I’ll be speaking to them myself shortly. They no doubt want to hear how I have dealt with this whole bond issue don’t you think?”

Severus was quietly fuming, but Albus, worried about just what Severus might say, had warned him not to speak to Fudge unless he had to. However, he did smile quietly to himself when he wondered what Albus’ reaction would be when he realised that Severus had not passed any such warning on to Farid.

“Now I think we need to start…” He broke off just then and greedily took in the sight of Farid coming into the room just behind Severus and flanked by Minerva

“Ahh Mr Potter, so good of you to join us,” he smiled. “Well done with your, ahem, your little battle the other day. The Death Eaters who defected to us were most expansive about how well your attack has dented He Who Must Not Be Named.”

Farid looked down at the hand that been offered to him and then turned to Severus, “Can I shake chis chand Masteerr?” Farid asked sweetly. 

Considering the fact that Farid had been more than happy to touch Adrian the photographer only moments before with out any such permission, Severus could only conclude that Farid had sensed his Master’s dislike of the man in front of him and was making sure that Fudge knew to whom he belonged. 

Fudge tutted, “Now, now this will not do Mr Potter. You are a hero, and you should not defer to anyone, especially not a Death Eater”

Farid drew himself up to his full height, which was, unusually, just enough for him to be able to look Fudge straight in the eye. “I ham sorry, I vill not do zis unless Masteerr say.” And he turned to look at Severus for permission. Severus mindful of Albus’ warning said not a word; he just looked at Farid and nodded stiffly once.

Having received the go ahead Farid took the Minister’s pudgy hand in his own slim one and shook it firmly.

Then he allowed himself to be led over to the table around which Lupin and Black sat. But again he deferred to Severus and refused to sit until his Master had done so. He and Farid had held to no such strict traditions over the last few weeks, so Severus presumed that Farid was acting this way because of earlier training, utilising it, to show the Minister who was important to him. He was making it as plain as he could to Fudge, without coming right out and saying so, that he knew to whom he belonged, and it sure as Circe wasn’t the Minister for Magic.

But Fudge had always been a particularly obtuse individual, and Severus didn’t think that Farid’s subtle hints were having any impact on the man at all. He did seem to take a bit more notice, however, when Farid waited until Severus had sat down and then proceeded to place himself so that Severus was between him and the Minister. Fudge looked distinctly nonplussed. 

He actually started to splutter though when Farid put his hand in his Master’s, and Severus, like the Slytherin he was, made sure that Fudge was aware of this by placing their joined hands on the table.

“Now see here Black, Dumbledore, I cannot in all conscience allow this relationship between Harry and this Death Eater to continue. We must remove the child forthwith. I am quite happy to take on the responsibility of the bond if you are unwilling to do so Black, and I ..”

“No.” It was Farid

Fudge spluttered to a halt.

“What? What did you say my boy?”

“I say no. I not leave my Masteerr. I not go do dyou. I stay wiz Masteerr.”

Fudge was going red, and he was on his feet ready to rage at Severus.

“Now see here my dear boy, you do not know what this man is like. You do not understand the world like I do. He is taking advantage of your innocence.”

Farid looked at Severus. He was silently asking permission again. Severus was unsure why Farid was asking or what he was about to do, but the boy’s instincts had repeatedly proved to be good. Severus smiled his acquiescence for whatever he was about to do.

Farid stood up.

All at once, the air was crackling again with repressed magical energy, and Severus realised that since his confrontation with Voldemort, Farid’s control had become so much better. There was no way that the boy was about to lose control, but that was not the impression he gave. Fudge’s eyes widened at this subtle demonstration of the boy’s tremendous power. Everyone was staring at Farid, and then he began to speak.

“I ham sorry Sir, boot I jo not know who dyou are. You chave come here and insult my Masteer and tell me zat I am too stupid to know that che is good man? I ham not innocent. I chave not been for wery long time. I am man I make my choice myself, and I vant to stay wiz Masteerr. I not understand vhy novon understand zis. I vill not go viz dyou unless Masteerr vant. I stay viz chim for alvays.”

Farid had tears in his eyes, trembling with emotion, and Severus just wanted to take him in his arms and hold him. It must seem to Farid that every new person he met wanted to take him from Severus, and it was obvious to him at least if no one else, that Farid really did not want to be taken away. Of course, Severus thought that was mainly the bond making him act like that, but he also thought that deep down perhaps Farid did truly love him.

But Black was on his feet right now. Farid looked in his direction and cringed. Farid had not been witness to Black’s change of heart had he? The last time he had seen the man had been when Ron had decked him. Then Voldemort had attacked, and he and Lupin had tried to restrain him forcibly, so he would have no idea that Black was about to defend them this time.

“That is enough thank you Minister. Farid is not on offer. As he has just said, he is an adult and as I told you yesterday, he is happy with Severus.”

Farid was peering at Black, obviously reassessing him, but the animagus had not yet finished speaking. “Even if it were possible for you to take on the bond we could not let that happen because….erm…”

Black seemed lost for words for a moment, but that was okay, because Farid obviously was not as he continued.

“Only vay for me to come viz dyou is if dyou rape me, Mineesteerr.”

Fudge started to splutter, but Farid was still speaking.

“And zat would take really long time, because I haz meet men like dyou before and dey always haf really small..” But he stopped there, unable to continue as Albus said, rather loudly to him, “FARID!!”

Farid was astonished. He stopped speaking and looked at the headmaster as if he was the strangest thing he had ever seen. However, even though Albus had stopped him, there was no way of mistaking what he had meant, for Farid had illustrated his words by raising his hand and wiggling his pinky finger back and forth. 

Fudge looked fit to explode, as did Black and Lupin and funnily enough Minerva, only in the case of the latter three, it was because they were suppressing laughter rather than succumbing to apoplexy. 

“Well I ..never! I mean… truly!” Fudge was lost for words, but Albus was on his feet and steering him tactfully out of the room 

“I think the press are waiting for you Minister," he was saying, as Fudge continued to splutter, “did you hear?… have never been so insulted.” They heard Albus assuring the Minister that Farid’s English was not always good and that was surely not what he had meant.

Farid looked affronted. “Vas my English not good?” He asked everyone. “I mean to say che haf wery small dick.”

With that Severus, Black, Lupin and Minerva all dissolved into fits of giggles, which took several minutes to subside, and poor Farid just watched them looking very confused indeed.

After the laughing though, there was an awkward silence. Farid had sat back down and was simply gazing at Black and Lupin through his lashes. Together Severus and he had somewhat overcome his initial reluctance to look people in the eye, and these days he did quite well, most of the time. But he was obviously uncertain about what to make of these two men. He had not exactly seen either of them at their best.

Severus surprised himself by genuinely feeling sorry for them both. They were James Potter’s oldest friends, they had promised to protect his child, and yet, here he sat before them, obviously unsure about them and clutching the hand of their life long enemy. So Severus took it upon himself to introduce his slave properly to two men who had known him since birth and would surely, under different circumstances, have been his favourite childhood companions. But instead of welcoming them into his life, Farid seemed uncertain as to what they wanted of him and was uncharacteristically quiet and subdued for the rest of the morning.

Much, much later, Farid was curled against his Master. He was naked again apart from his collar, and his cheeks were stained with tears for the second time that day. The meeting had been such a struggle for him in the end. He had been anxious that Albus was cross with him for a reason he could not understand, and made Black spill his tea all over the table when he asked Dumbledore upon his return, whether he wanted Farid to strip for his beating. The poor boy was sure he had somehow earned a punishment for saying something wrong, though he had no idea what that thing might be.

Albus had looked incredibly sad at Farid’s words and had sat the boy down and told him, that no, he hadn’t been cross at all. He explained to Farid that he needed to learn that there were some things that one just didn’t say in the company of people that one did not know. Black had strenuously objected to Albus’ words, pointing out that Fudge had been rude to both Severus and Farid, and, as Severus was forbidden to speak, Farid had merely been defending himself and his Master. He’d then made the mistake of asking Farid what it was like when Yusuf had important visitors that he wanted to impress. Nobody felt very cheerful after Farid pointed out that, in that case, he had either been gagged or had other things shoved in his mouth, and that nobody had ever asked his opinion on anything at all. 

Later still, Remus had produced photographs of Lily and James, which he proceeded to show to Farid. The desolate look in the boy’s eyes as he saw his parents for the first time and the poignant tears that dried on his cheeks, had made them all even sadder. All the while, Farid could not understand why everyone was so gloomy and what he had done to upset them or what he had said to make them argue about him when just a little earlier, they had all been laughing.

In the end, Severus had taken him back to their rooms to calm him down and sooth his confusion; for several of the strange magical objects which lined Albus’ walls had begun to explode when Farid started to lose control of his power as he became increasingly upset. His arm draped over the boy’s shoulders as they left, and Severus chanced to look back at the others to say goodbye. He saw how desolate they had all become in their turn. He thought that he would need to talk to them later, when Farid was in class, and comfort them all. This was surely a paradigm shift, for since when did Severus Snape ever comfort anyone or worry about the feelings of others?

It was more than hour before Severus was able to return to the meeting, having finally left Farid with the ubiquitous Ronald Weasley. They spent the rest of the morning designing a training plan for Farid in which they would all participate. Then one by one, each in turn, Minerva, Lupin, Black and even Albus had expressed their sadness at Farid’s childhood treatment and frustration as to how they would deal with it. Severus had pointed out that Farid had come a long way from the scared, submissive boy that he had rescued just a few short weeks earlier and that he needed time and understanding. He shouldn’t be forced, he told them, or made to feel inadequate. He should just be accepted and welcomed for the very special person that he was.

He had felt wrung out by the emotional meeting, and now he desperately tried to console his slave who was simultaneously worried that he was upsetting people without realising and very anxious about the battle that he was someday expected to fight with Voldemort.

They talked about that for sometime, and Severus tried to reassure Farid, though he was not very sure that he succeeded. Then they talked about Black and Lupin

“I jon’t unjerstand Masteerr, vat do zey vant from me?” Farid said sadly. “Zey vant zomzing and zey look at me wiz sorrow in zer eyes, it make me frighted.”

“They want absolution, sweetheart.” Severus had replied. “They want to be forgiven for what happened to you.”

“Is it because I am broked zat zey is zad? Zey make my cheart cry Masteerr and I not know vat to jo.”

“You are not broken Farid. You are one of the strongest people I have ever met,” Severus had told him, tenderly placing a kiss on the boy’s head

“Jes Masteerr,” Farid replied in a soft, sad voice, nodding to emphasise his words. “I is all broked up.”

Severus had swept him up in his arms then and carried him to the bed. He gently placed him in the middle of the green silk cover, thrilling at the contrast with the boy’s pale, milky skin. He placed a finger on Farid’s lips at the boy’s questioning look. 

“Shush my own,” he whispered. “Close your eyes. Don’t speak. Just let yourself feel, and I will show you that you are not broken, not really. Not broken at all.”

Then leisurely, and oh so lovingly, he began to place tiny kisses on the boy’s face and tearstained cheeks. He was not going to hurry. He was taking it slowly. For tonight, he was determined to make love to his beloved boy. He had taken a double dose of Anti-lust potion earlier, though he had not yet told Farid. He was determined that right now, nothing was going to get in the way of the boy’s pleasure. He had had sex with Farid countless times and knew all the little things that the boy found most arousing, but never before had he made love to him quite like this.

He followed his licks with tender caresses and little nibbles. He continued on like this, persisting, not giving up, whilst Farid moaned and writhed on the bed, arching into his ministrations, his determined lovemaking. Until finally, of it’s own accord and totally unbidden, Farid’s cock started to harden all by itself.

Severus smiled in an almost feral way. “Good boy, clever boy,” he whispered to Farid, all the while playing with Farid’s organ stroking it, caressing it whilst it became harder with each fond consideration. It took a long time, but Severus wasn’t worried, he had all night as far as he was concerned. 

He worshiped Farid’s body with everything that he had. Skin rubbed against skin, silky and warm, and he continued kissing and licking his way up and down Farid’s torso, tasting Farid, luxuriating in the very essence of his glorious body. He poked his tongue into the boy’s navel and laved his way down until he was gently nibbling Farid’s sweet pink balls. Farid was mewling, squirming under Severus’ insistent tongue, but as ordered he still did not speak.

Next, Severus ran his tongue over Farid’s cock. Up and down the shaft, darting little licks at the slit. The boy’s eyes were squeezed shut, his cheeks were flushed and he was arching his back, clenching his fists in the silk coverlet. Finally, satisfied that Farid was indeed hard enough, Severus opened his mouth and swallowed the boy, as deeply as he could, and if his mouth had not been so occupied, he would surely have laughed aloud as Farid screamed and involuntarily thrust his hips forward. 

Severus spread his hand and placed it on Farid’s flat, perfect stomach. He chuckled affectionately, deep in his throat, producing a rumbling vibration, which caused the slave to writhe even more. Gently but firmly, he pushed the boy back down on to the bed.

He ran this same hand up over Farid’s ribs and then teasingly played with the nipple rings. Little shudders ran through his slave as Severus pinched and tweaked the sensitive, pierced nubs. With the other hand he cupped each of Farid’s balls in turn, massaging them with his thumb, the slightly calloused skin, making the surface of his fingers just a tiny bit more interesting on the boy’s receptive sacs, producing more delicious shivers with every fond stroke.

Farid was begging now almost incoherently.

“Pleaspleaspleaspleaspleaspleaspleaspleas,” the words became whimpers and finally the whimpers became a longer high-pitched scream as Farid lost all semblance of control and came hard into Severus’ mouth.

Severus swallowed delightedly and sat up, grinning widely, more than pleased with himself.

But Farid was trembling. He gathered him into his arms, wrapped his body around the boy and rocked him to and fro as violent sobs wracked the man-child in his embrace.

“Oh Masteerr, oh Masteerr. I never, oh Masteerr.”

“Shush sweet one,” Severus murmured into the boy’s slender neck, kissing him gently still, soothing him, and loving him with all that he had.

“I never knew it could be like zat!” Farid sobbed. “It vas, oh! It vas vonderful. I explode, I tremble. It make me melt.”

“Clever boy,” Severus repeated. “So clever, so good, clever, clever boy.”

The sobs stilled eventually and the juddering breaths became more even, as Farid slowly lost his battle with sleep. And still Severus held him, ruefully noting his own, not inconsiderable erection that gradually waned as time went on. He smiled to himself, despite Severus’ undoubted skill, this time the potion had failed completely

“You’re not completely broken darling,” he told the sleeping boy softly. “No where near broken, my love.”


	30. Chapter Thirty

A/N Sorry about the delay in getting this chapter posted but RL has been very hectic over the holidays and I needed to finish a one shot for HP_thematic (it's called a funny kind of hero and is posted on this site if you want to read it). But I am back to normal life now and aiming for my usual two chapters a week update.

Thanks to Kim and TQA for betaing.

 

 

Chapter Thirty

The next few weeks were the busiest that Severus could remember, at least as far as Farid was concerned. Some days he hardly saw the boy, and that was hard for him to deal with. He missed him desperately at times and often sought comfort in the company of Remus. He was truly beginning to build a friendship with the werewolf and regretting the years when he had kept the man at a distance because of the fear of what he was. Remus was erudite, wise and dryly funny. As Farid seemed ever more occupied with his classmates and developing his new found friendship with Sirius Black, Remus helped Severus deal with his loneliness and his jealousy; a jealousy that Severus found ever more invasive.

He wanted Farid to build a life outside of the slavery that was all the boy had known. He wanted him to have friendships with children his own age. He had forcibly tamped down the negative emotions that he felt when he saw Farid interacting with others, but with Black it was so much harder. Because, even though the man had been almost an ally in recent weeks, Severus simply did not like him. He knew that he never would. There was just too much enmity between them. Until recently, Farid had shown the same distrust of Black that Severus had always felt, and Black had tried numerous ways to reach the boy without success. But then Black had seen Farid fly.

The first time Black watched the boy take to the air, he was enraptured. He ran through the school shouting for Albus and Lupin as if Cerberus himself were on his heels.

He had dragged half of Hogwarts outside to see the spectacle that Farid made, including most of the ghosts and an assortment of House Elves. But Severus had seen Farid fly before and knew that his boy was, on that particular day, not even trying very hard. He was just lazily making idle circles, occasionally plunging to the ground then soaring straight and true back up into the blue autumn sky. Severus loved to watch Farid fly. He did not think that there was a wizard anywhere in the magical world that would not be moved by the sight of his boy in the air, but Black was almost incoherent with delight and it had not taken Severus very long to work out why that was.

He and Lupin had discussed it many times.

Farid, and everything that he was, simply hurt the man too much. He would never be able to accept the boy for what he was, what he had been, Severus thought. Black would never forgive himself for not rescuing the boy sooner and he seemed unable to recognise the qualities in Farid that everyone else saw so clearly. Outwardly, Farid was too childlike, too _feminine_ for Black, but Black was wrong. Farid did display a childlike innocence which was very disarming but he was, Severus knew, a master manipulator. The boy had even won over the cynical, world-weary media of the wizarding world; not an easy task, as Fudge had recently found to his cost.

Certain behaviour patterns, that Farid had been trained to display to the world, also made him seem much weaker than he was. Again, this had been a survival tactic for the boy. He had hidden in plain sight for most of his life, allowing the vampires to see what they wanted to see: a weak, submissive slave. Severus knew that Farid was not truly like that with anyone, not even his Master, really. But Severus had been to the vampire stronghold. He had seen the cruel environment in which Farid had survived, overcome. He knew how brave the boy was, and loved and admired his lionhearted man-child. 

Farid’s skill on a broom was the one thing that Black could latch on to that _he_ could understand and share with the boy. He spent hours showing Farid books on Quidditch, and reading passages to him (because although Farid’s reading skills were developing fairly rapidly he still had a long way to go), or describing games that Black and James Potter had taken part in years ago and Farid was enchanted. He got to hear about his father when he was a boy. He got training on Quidditch moves. But never ever, as far as Severus could see, did the pair of them discuss emotions, or how either of them felt about things. Because Black just couldn’t bring himself to even think about all the stuff that was churning around inside him, and Farid would have felt completely overwhelmed by Black’s grief, just like he had that day in Albus’ office.

Severus even felt sorry for the man. He had seen how close to breaking down Black had been when they had visited the Dursleys together, but he could not seem to overcome the envy that was becoming ever more apparent to him and, he suspected, to Farid, every time the boy spent more than a few minutes in Black’s company.

He watched them together right now. He was sitting at the honey coloured oval table in Remus’ rooms at the window that overlooked the Quidditch pitch. Even from here he could tell that Black was clowning about, entertaining Farid and his friends, even from here he could see that the boy was laughing. Whilst periodically Farid did look over to the window at which Severus stood, he made no move to return as yet. 

Severus’ body language must have made it apparent to his companion how he was feeling; his fists clenching and unclenching, the muscle tightening in his jaw. Or maybe the werewolf’s senses were just stronger than most wizards, because Severus could almost see the sympathy rolling off the man in waves. He watched the werewolf pour them a whiskey each and then he turned his attention back to Farid.

“He loves you Severus, you do know that?” Remus said, coming up behind him and standing alongside, gesturing towards the distant figures on the field below. “And this is the only way that Sirius can possibly get close to Farid. You do know that, don’t you?”

Severus nodded tightly. “Yes, I want him to know Black. You and he are all that the boy has left of his parents. But I can’t help how I feel. I have hated you both for so many years, and….and sharing Farid is so hard, especially with him.”

Remus smiled, sat down at a nearby chair and handed Severus the glass of Talisker* he had gone to fetch. “I think you are a remarkable man Severus, have I told you that?” he said. “We all hated each other for years, fools that we were. The fact that we have overcome this is mainly down to you. Don’t think that I don’t appreciate it. We are both in your debt. 

I see what Sirius doesn’t seem to understand about Farid: How truly _unique_ he is. That is what the name means, isn’t it Severus?”

“Yes,” Severus answered, “Yes, it does. I don’t call him ‘Harry’, ever.” He smiled wryly. “Nobody does, except Dumbledore, or Black, or sometimes you. I don’t even really think of him as Harry Potter most of the time, you know? I do know who he is. I know his importance to us all, his importance to both of you, but he is not who any of us expected him to be when we started looking, is he?”

Remus laughed. “He certainly isn’t! I think all of us expected a James clone. He does look a lot like his father, although his features are finer, more delicate somehow. But he is far more like Lily, isn’t he? That fire inside him, the thirst for knowledge he seems to have. His gentleness, the kindness, the generosity, the passion, they all come from Lily too. Sirius never really knew her, not like we did, so he does not see that Farid shares many of his mother’s qualities. He and James spent too many of their school days running around being their idea of macho, getting in to all kinds of trouble. Neither of them had an introspective bone in their bodies!”

Their eyes met in understanding and Severus realised that this kinder, gentler Marauder had felt exasperated by his friends’ actions sometimes too.

“It is Farid who got us here, you realise, don’t you? Got you and me to a place where we can stand side by side and discuss the past like this,” Remus mused. “He truly is one of the most remarkable people I have ever met.”

Albus had arranged for the Defense Against the Darks Arts professor to give Farid exclusive tuition three times a week, and, in their own way, he and Farid had been building a relationship too. But somehow Severus did not mind this so much. He liked the werewolf, respected him and he would never have thought that he might admit to that even a few short months ago.

“It is not only his magic that is so strong,” Remus was continuing. “He has the most amazing spirit, the most generous soul.” He was staring at nothing and Severus wondered what had occurred between the two of them to make the werewolf so reflective. Farid had been in a tutorial just a short while earlier and something must have happened that had triggered such a statement, but if he kept quiet he knew that Remus would tell him, so he let the man continue.

“He knew about me Severus. He knew what I am. I hadn’t told him. I was scared he…..scared that he might reject me, and I couldn’t have borne that.”   
Remus was looking at the floor as he spoke. He seemed almost reluctant to meet Severus’ eye.

“I thought at first that you had told him what I am but he said that you hadn’t, that he could see the wolf in me; he had known from the moment he saw me. He said I am Prime, Alpha and that I should embrace my destiny, not fight it. He said that it is the fighting that causes the pain each month, and, if I could accept myself, then the transformations would be much less traumatic. He knew about the pain, I do not know how, but he did. He said that the wolf is a noble animal and that there is no disgrace in nobility, that the wolf cannot deny its nature and that I should feel no shame.”

When Remus looked at him again his eyes were shining with tears.

“I have always felt dirty, you know, for all of my life, ever since I was a small child, transforming each month into a monster. But Farid, Farid said that I am no more a monster than any magical animal is. No more than a thestral, or a dragon,” Remus’ last word was almost a sob. “He said that if Wolfsbane allows me to keep my mind, then I should allow myself joy in my transformation just like any animagus does. He didn’t know that word, of course. He called it ‘shape changer’.

He said I should be more like Sirius and have good fun with my dog friend when the moon was full.

He knew, Severus. I didn’t tell him, he knew. He can look into someone’s eyes and see if they are an animagus. He thought everyone could. He knew that Sirius was a dog, Minerva a cat.” Remus chortled, “Did you know that Rita Skeeter is a beetle? I don’t think she is registered though.” He raised his eyebrows at Severus then, “Could be useful if she ever decided to start writing things about the boy that were less than complimentary. Albus, he isn’t registered either. He’s a bumblebee! I never knew, did you? That’s how he knows so much, being able to transform into such a small creature makes for a wonderful ability to spy, don’t you think? It was probably why he said nothing about the Marauders’ animagus transformations. He couldn’t really, could he?”

Severus was astonished. Just when he thought he knew everything about Farid, the boy seemed to produce something that still surprised him. And in all these years, he had never guessed about Albus. He looked forward to sharing his new knowledge with the headmaster sometime soon.

“His magic is so strange too,” Remus was continuing, “very powerful, but so very different from anything I have known before. He seems to have abilities that I have never heard of and he reacts to the magic around him in a way that is completely intuitive. I think he suppressed it when he was with his uncle. But later, when he knew that the vampires prized magical ability, he let it grow, but played with it, experimented in secret, honed his skills. He didn’t know what the rules were, so it developed on its own in ways that none of us ever expected. It makes me wonder what he would have been like if he had grown up with James and Lily, if they had never died. Would he have been as powerful as this? As unexpected?”

“If he had grown up with the Potters, if he had not been taken, he would never have been with me.” Severus whispered. This was his darkest secret, his deepest shame. He knew that almost everyone else wished that things had been different for Harry Potter and he did too, well a bit of him did. But what had happened to the boy had transformed him into Farid and fate had then bound him to Severus, and Severus could not regret that. He rejoiced in their bond in the secret heart of himself, despite the occasional complication. Even if he did want the boy’s freedom someday, and he truly did, he could not regret how their relationship had come about, and he could hardly imagine how his life would be without Farid now, it was almost unthinkable.

“Do really think that, Severus?” Remus was asking kindly. “Who knows what might have happened? You are so good together. He loves you so much that maybe you were always meant to be together, somehow.

“You should not feel guilty you know, never feel guilty for what you feel, for what you have. He is what he is, and you have helped him become more free, allowed his spirit to shine brightly. You should have no shame for how you need him in your life. He has transformed you Severus, slowly but surely he is transforming us all, even Sirius. Maybe that is the greatest power he has? That, despite everything he has been through, or perhaps because of it, he embraces life, enjoys every moment of it with wonder and joy. He does appear weak to us I think sometimes, but really, really he is the strongest of us all.”

It was Severus who had been pensive after that. Remus was right; he was different now, kinder, less snarky. Unwittingly, Farid seemed to have transformed Hogwarts, and each and every one of them, for the better. Since his battle with Voldemort, even the Slytherins seemed to have accepted him, all apart from the odious Nott of course. Draco was once again welcome in the house of the snake, thanks to Farid’s temporary defeat of the Dark Lord. The war was far from over yet, but maybe at last a number of Slytherins could conceive of a different outcome from the one that they had feared.

His boy had not seemed to have noticed how separate the houses once were, how divided. He had taken Severus’ advice in his first days at Hogwarts and made friends with just about everyone he met. He simply expected everyone to get on with each other, for there to be no rivalry, no hatred and somehow this was working. The divisions were fast disappearing and the rest of the school was following the lead of its oldest students.

There had been much more mixing in recent weeks between the children, since Draco’s unexpected adoption by Gryffindor House. Zabini had started going out with Lavender Brown, Pansy was seeing Ernie MacMillan, and Daphne Greengrass seemed to have struck up friendships with the Patil twins and with Hermione Granger. Even Ron Weasley, another archetypal Gryffindor had shaken off the anger, the hatred of Slytherins that had once marred his personality and, possibly inspired by his new found friendship with Draco, had subsequently struck up a friendship with Vincent Crabbe, who apparently shared a love of chess with the red haired boy.

All of this, each change, was due to Farid, and the boy had become a favourite with everyone, something he seemed to be blissfully ignorant of but which Severus simultaneously rejoiced in and disliked, because he was proud of the boy and yet really did not want to share Farid with anyone at all.

But his talks with Remus helped. As did his private evenings alone with his boy. Every evening now, after dinner in the Great Hall, Severus would sit with Farid curled against him on the big sofa in the sitting room and they would look at the Daily Prophet together. Recently there had been a lot in the publication to interest them both.

The day after Farid had met with the journalists there were lots of florid articles about his boy and what he had suffered. There were a number of items about Fudge too. One or two of these hinted about certain ‘physical problems’, which may have caused Fudge to be less than effective as Minister. Fudge had been incandescent with rage when these comments had appeared and had stormed into Albus’ office accusing him of repeating Farid’s words. None of them had been able to understand how Farid’s statement had been leaked, but his new knowledge of Skeeter’s animagus form gave Severus a good idea of how the ‘leak’ came about. He smirked to himself, promising to have a little chat with lady in question as soon as he could.

Fudge had not been happy anyway, since the press had given him a hard time about his attitude towards Severus and grilled him about Farid’s Muggle relatives and the situation in Kazakhstan. Day after day there were photos of the Dursleys running from various locations, huddled under blankets, trying to avoid the magical circus that seemed to follow them around the world, and there were various rumours circulating that the family may well have to face prosecution for endangerment. The Wizengamot were currently debating about whether or not Muggles could be sent to Azkaban.

The vampires in Kazakhstan had also decided to release their slaves. All captives had been freed and various magical governments around the world had come forward to put pressure on the clans to eschew the capture and killing of Muggles for food from now on, and to swear to only partake of donated or volunteered blood in line with vampire treaties elsewhere in the world. 

An American news cameraman named Adrian Barnard was featured in various publications as a vanguard for the international pressure group that had been created. He was currently putting pressure on the British Magical Government to seek the extradition of a certain 800 year-old vampire known only as Yusuf, for the enslavement, torture and rape of a magical child. The vampire in question was currently at a location unknown.

Severus was truly impressed by the events that had taken place since Farid’s impromptu chat with the press. Neither of them could have any idea of the impact that his simple words would have, but Severus could not help being gleeful at the current traumas affecting the Dursleys. Farid was seemingly unconcerned by most of the articles. He had studied photos of his erstwhile family to see if they looked how he remembered and then lost interest. The photos of the freed slaves in Kazakhstan, however, were studied in detail and little squeals of delight issued whenever he recognized anyone. Severus was told the individual’s name and how Farid had known them. Many of the stories that he heard were as bad, if not worse, than Farid’s, and Severus was proud that his boy had been able to initiate the current changes. 

There were, of course, no photographs of the vampires and the reading public had to settle for ‘artist’s sketches’. Severus got full descriptions of many of these characters as well, and learned far more than he ever thought he would need about vampires and their sexual proclivities. Farid had also started corresponding with his new friend Adrian. Severus helped him write the letters and then decipher the replies. Farid was getting better at reading the printed word now, at least if he took it slowly, but he was lost when he tried to read handwriting. But even if he could not read what was written, he could often recognise the writer just from a few words and always got excited when he recognised one of Adrian’s gossipy letters.

Severus told himself that he was just doing his bit to help the boy with his reading and writing, but in truth he loved Farid cuddling up beside him at the end of the day whilst they discussed developments and any other news items that interested them.

He also loved the fact that, before long, they always ended in bed, Severus never had to instruct the boy to feel pleasure any more, Farid seemed to become aroused just at Severus’ touch, sometimes even his proximity was enough. Now his only worry was that he could continue to satisfy his passionate, sensuous eighteen-year-old lover. 

Right now, even with his occasional bouts of jealously, which he continued to battle and, despite Farid’s increasing popularity and business elsewhere, Severus was happier than he could ever remember being at any time in his life. Which, as he mused much later, was when he should have known things were about to go wrong.

 

* Talisker is a Malt whiskey which is brewed on the Isle of Skye.


	31. Chapter Thirty One

Thanks for betaing. Kim and TQA

 

Thirty-One

Farid was high above the Quidditch Pitch. Ron was the team captain for Gryffindor and had told Farid to stay out of the game for as long as he could. They were playing Slytherin and the other team always played dirty. Ron did not want Farid hurt if he could possibly help it, for as he put it, “I don’t fancy the Professor wearing the skin off my back as a hat and that’s what’ll he’ll do to me if anything happens to you, mate!”

So, he was doing as he was told and keeping out of the way until he saw the snitch. Farid loved flying but, being out here today, he felt unsettled. His Master wanted him to fly, encouraged it, but Farid could tell through the bond that his Master was not really happy about his developing friendship with Sirius Black.

Farid liked Sirius Black. He made him laugh and he was kind to Farid. He fingered the map in his pocket that Sirius Black had given him earlier. Old and worn, it showed the school and everyone in it; where they were, what they were doing. He couldn’t wait to show it to Master. Sirius Black and Professor Lupin and Farid’s father had made it and now Farid knew how it worked. He hoped Master would be pleased because right now Farid was really confused. Master told him to make friends, to play Quidditch, to see Sirius Black often. But his feelings, his emotions? Why, they said something very different indeed.

More and more often these days Farid felt his Master’s emotions through the bond and Master’s emotions showed Farid that he was, in truth, far from happy with some of his new friendships. He wanted Farid to be free, he said so often, and he tried really hard to allow him to seek new friends, new relationships and most of the time Master overcame his feelings of possessiveness, of jealousy. 

But whenever Farid spent time with Sirius Black, Master was becoming more and more fraught with anger and anxiety. The bond said, ‘Mine. Not share. Back off.’ And so Farid was worried because Master was becoming ever more confused and so, no matter what he did, Farid was disobeying Master and that was scary. Farid hoped that he continued to get it right as he had so far, guessing all the time whether Master most meant: what he said or what he felt. But he knew that in all probability, one day soon, Master would lose control of the feelings that were overwhelming him and then Farid really did not know what would happen.

So Farid was trying to detach himself from any relationship with Sirius Black. He had always called the man by his full name as a way of distancing himself from the man and, initially, Master had approved. But Sirius Black kept trying to spend time with Farid and in the last two days he had succeeded. Because of the upcoming Quidditch match, they had been training exhaustively. So Farid had spent even more time with the shape-shifter and his team mates than usual and Farid could feel Master’s mounting fury, like a thunderstorm on the horizon. 

Yesterday morning Master had closed down the bond and that was what was scaring him most right now, because Master had it wrong. He thought that by closing off the bond, he would shut down his feelings and stop them overwhelming Farid. But Master could not stop Farid feeling what Master was feeling, not if the emotions were as strong as this. All he had succeeded in doing was shutting down the reciprocal bond that enabled Master to know how Farid was feeling and that meant that he would not know if Farid were upset, or frightened, or dead, come to that.

But up here, he did not have to worry because he could feel that Master was okay with what he was doing right now, proud of him even. Master trusted him on a broom. It was so nice to have Master’s wholehearted approval, as he had felt that little enough recently. He was scanning the field, looking for the golden snitch that was his task and, for the first time in several days, Farid felt content. 

He knew that the game had been going well, despite the cheating of Nott and his cronies. If Gryffindor won this match, then it would be the first time Slytherin had lost a game since Draco had become seeker. The boy was excellent, a really good flyer. But Farid was better. He felt no pride in this, he did not wish to gloat, this just was how things happened to be and Farid accepted it.

Presently Gryffindor had scored 190 points whilst Slytherin were at 110. The crowd of children and teachers watching the game were very excited. Farid could hear them cheering even from this vantage point. Then he saw the snitch.

Draco was about a hundred feet below him and the object in question was hovering about thirty feet above Draco’s head; if the boy were to look up he would surely see it. Farid manoeuvred his broom so that he seemed to be ambling in Draco’s direction, but, just as he approached the other boy, it was almost if the snitch reacted to his approach and it soared off ahead of them both, madly flapping its golden wings like a manic puffin. Draco saw it then and with Farid still some twenty-five feet away, he was off after their shared goal, flying as fast as he could. The race was on.

Draco had a huge head start on Farid but he was not going to let that stop him, he leaned forward over his broom and flew as he had never flown before. Seconds later he was passing Draco, the other boy was red-faced with effort but Farid overtook him with ease. 

The snitch was just ahead and it was doing its best to elude them both; flying straight up, dodging and weaving, finally plunging to the ground faster than gravity. It was plummeting ever faster on a collision course with the earth below and both boys followed it. After several seconds when their speed seemed to increase exponentially Draco baulked at the acceleration and pulled up. Farid, however, did not; he pointed his broom directly at the pitch and single-mindedly followed the object of his attention.

The feeling was incredible; the wind blowing his hair back, causing tears to rise in his eyes. Faster and faster until, a bare few feet from the ground, he finally snatched the elusive object and flew back into the air with one hand hauling the nose of the broom up and the other clutching his prize aloft.

While he was in pursuit of the snitch, Farid had heard nothing, felt nothing. But now he could hear screams, screams which for some reason still held a tinge of terror, and through the bond he could feel his Master’s wrath. He looked around; the scoreboard was showing the end of game score: Gryffindor 340, Slytherin 110. The crowd was now going wild and a seemingly never-ending stream of children was spilling onto the field below. But all Farid could think about was his Master’s anger. He saw Master heading for the pitch along with the crowds and aimed his broom in that direction. Farid could not understand why Master was angry with him. What had he done that was wrong? 

Seconds later he alighted and began trying to make his way to Master, but there was no way that he could get through the crowd. People were patting him on the back, shaking his hand, squeezing his shoulder, but then Sirius Black was there and he was hugging Farid. Sirius Black was crying.

“Never in all my life have I seen anything like that. It was fucking brilliant, _you_ are fucking brilliant and I think I love you!” Then he took Farid’s face in both hands and placed a kiss squarely on Farid’s lips. There was nothing sexual about it and Farid had plenty of experience with which to compare, but the wave of fury that hit Farid through the bond almost knocked him to the ground. Then Master was with him, right next to him. Farid could feel his angry gaze burning into the back of his neck. 

He wrenched himself from Sirius Black’s arms and threw himself into those of his Master.

“Masteerr, I is sorry. Vhat did I jo? I sorry, I sorry. Pleas jon’t be cross.”

Farid had his arms around his Master’s waist and he was sobbing.

“Hush child,” Master said, but Farid could see the conflict the dark eyes, feel it in his own heart. Master wanted to beat Sirius Black to the ground. Tear at him, stomp on him.

“Oh come on, Sniv er Snape,” Sirius Black was saying, causing another peak of emotion to wash over Farid, but his Master’s face was calm. It betrayed nothing of the emotions warring under the surface.

“He could have died, Black. Don’t you realise that?” It was Master that had Farid’s face grasped in his hands now. “The way you flew was foolhardy, Farid. You could have been killed, you foolish boy.” 

Farid lowered his eyes, tears were gathering in the corners of them. He had not meant to make Master cross. He knew that at no time was he actually in any danger, he was always in complete control of his broom. But he was not about to tell Master that. So instead he just muttered as penitently as he could, “I sorry, Masteerr.”

But Black interrupted. “Don’t apologise, Harry. You were phenomenal, amazing. Don’t you understand how talented he is, Snape? He could fly for England; even now he could with no more training than he has already had. I have seen Quidditch matches all over the world and I have never seen anything like Harry’s flying. I always thought Malfoy was good, but Harry here left him at a standstill.”

He reached forward for Farid’s hand, “Come on, boy. We are going to party.”

Farid pulled back against Master’s chest.

Master’s emotions peaked again, but his expression did not even change.

He placed a finger under Farid’s chin and turned his face up so that he could read Farid’s soul with those unfathomable eyes.

“Do you want to go?” he asked quietly.

Farid was conflicted. He did want to go. Never in all his life had Farid been to a party. As a guest at least, he had often been as part of the entertainment. He had heard about parties from his new friends and remembered them from when he was a child at the Dursleys; he really did want to go. But, at the same time, he did not want to hurt his Master.

But Master must have seen enough to satisfy him, because he removed his hand from Farid’s chin and smiled at him gently.

“Of course you must go,” Master was saying, “Just don’t stay all night, I have a special dinner planned.”

Master’s mouth was saying go to the party, but his heart seemed to be saying, ‘No, please don’t, stay with me tonight.’ So Farid turned to Sirius Black and said, “I zink I go viz my Masteerr, zank dyou Sirioos Black.”

“Farid,” Master said more firmly this time, “you _will_ go. You will have fun, and I will see you later.” Then he placed a tender kiss on Farid’s lips, this one so different from the one that Farid had just received from Sirius Black. Farid wanted to melt in his Master’s arms, but Master did not seem to be giving him the choice. He held Farid close for just a moment and whispered softly in his ear, words meant for Farid and Farid alone. “I am so proud of you My Own.” Then he turned on his heel and swept away into the crowd.

Farid couldn’t help feeling that something was lost, broken to smithereens. Master was feeling sad, lonely, left behind. Farid tried to pull away but his friends held him tightly dragging him towards the changing rooms, shouting to each other in their excitement. But Farid promised himself that he would get away as soon as he could, because Master was crying inside.

 

Walking away from Farid was the hardest thing that Severus had had to do for a long time. He wanted to grab the boy and snatch him away from the world. Farid was _his_. He had found him, rescued him, protected him. But, in recent weeks, Farid had become a commodity, ever more popular as the days went along.

And Black, the bastard! Severus felt a surge of anger when he thought of the man. He hated him sometimes. How dare he kiss Farid? How dare he praise him for such foolhardy, dangerous stunts? How dare he keep calling him _Harry_? 

Severus felt like a child again. Not invited to the party, not wanted, not even by Farid. He knew he was being ridiculous. The desperate look in Farid’s eyes when he had been looking back at Severus over his shoulder as his friends hauled him away, told him more than anything that the boy cared for him. Black would probably have asked him along if he had stayed around. But Severus hated parties, he really did. He just would have liked to have been able to turn them all down, refuse their invitation, and Black had denied him the chance.

At least, Severus thought to himself, Farid did not have to put up with the ever more conflicting emotions that Severus seemed to be feeling these days. The bond seemed to leach on to his least likeable personality traits: his jealousy, his nurtured hatreds, his insecurities.

At least, Severus thought to himself, Farid did not have to suffer Severus’ unbridled feelings anymore. Quite unexpectedly, just yesterday morning, Severus had felt a surge of joy come through the bond to him from Farid, who was flying outside on the Quidditch pitch. Somehow he had managed to shut it off and had felt nothing from the boy ever since. He felt a little pride that he had managed to do something that Remus had thought impossible and Severus determined to tell the werewolf of his success in the morning.

He headed for the dungeons and a stiff whisky, a Laphroaig, he thought. That would do nicely. He would only have one, but it would calm his nerves. Severus never drank more than two glasses of alcohol if he could help it. Being the child of a violent drunk had cured him of excess for life, he thought. But after today he as sure as hell needed something. 

For a moment, he had thought Farid lost. The whole crowd had been screaming in terror as the boy hurtled to the ground, speed increasing. Malfoy had struggled out of the dive apparently just in time, but Farid had appeared to be facing certain death. Severus had been truly awed for a few seconds when Farid did the impossible and pulled out of that seemingly fatal dive. Deep down he knew that Black was right, the child’s flying was simply phenomenal. He too had never seen anything like the control, the sheer natural ability that Farid had demonstrated today. He deserved his party, Severus’ boy did. Now, if only Severus could overcome his feelings, then he could truly welcome his little hero home later.

Still cross, still slightly disgruntled but nevertheless full of thoughts of what he and Farid might do that evening to help Severus overcome his shock, he made his way to the dungeons and a nice wee dram.


	32. Chapter Thirty Two

The next two chapters contain scenes which some readers might find upsetting, there is also a cliffhanger ahead, you might want to wait for chapter thirty four before reading on. Thirty three up shortly.

Thanks to KIm for betaing. TQA, miss ya baby sending you love and hugs Lxxx

 

Chapter Thirty Two

In the end Farid only spent a couple of hours at the party. It had been fun. He had danced with Hermione, and a blonde girl called Luna, and Lavender Brown whom he did not really like, because she would keep kissing him. He had talked to lots of people that he had never met properly before and heard his flying skills analysed and discussed time after time. He tried the punch that Seamus and Dean had created, “Very fruity but with quite a kick! Suitable for eighteen year olds and above only,” so Seamus had said. The Irishman did not have his usual sparkle that afternoon, since Draco had not turned up, and after several glasses of his liquid creation inside him, Seamus had become maudlin and somewhat worse for wear. A slightly inebriated Ron was doing his best to comfort his pal, “Couldn’t ‘spect him to come really,” Ron was saying as Farid climbed out of the portrait hole, “We smacked Slytherin’s arse today. They ain’t gonna celebrate that are they?” 

Farid wondered how drunk Seamus was because he had not pointed out the obvious, which was that Draco really should have been there, even if the main reason for the party was that everyone was celebrating the Gryffindor victory. The very fact that there was plenty of free booze available, and on a school night too, had meant that Blaise, Pansy, Vincent, Greg and Daphne, along with a number of Slytherin sixth and seventh years, had overcome any possible reluctance to party. Draco was practically one of them anyway now and Farid thought that Draco would be fine with his victory, as he had encouraged Farid to develop his skills almost as much as Ron and Sirius Black had.

In the recent weeks since Farid had fought Voldemort, Draco had become more accepted by his fellow snakes and had slowly started to regain some of his former popularity; this time because of who he was himself and not because of any influence that his father might have had. However, Draco and Seamus were practically inseparable these days and Draco seemed to spend a lot more time in Gryffindor than Seamus did in Slytherin.

Farid wondered what had happened to keep the blonde boy away. As he was walking down the corridor that led to the entrance the Gryffindor tower, he suddenly remembered the map in his pocket. He stopped at a window seat and took it out. In his very best English he repeated the words that Sirius Black had taught him and carefully began to scan the map for Draco’s name.

Farid was proud that his reading had come on so much in recent weeks. The daily practices with Hermione for writing and spelling, and the nightly sessions with Master meant that he could read a lot of the names on the map now without much difficulty, especially since they were printed so clearly. He still struggled most with anything handwritten and Hermione had to translate anything that his Master wrote on the blackboard, as Farid was completely lost when it came to the scrawl Master produced. Farid knew he was not alone in struggling to read Master’s words; many of the younger years still had difficulties, which, considering some of the things that Master wrote on their essays, was probably just as well. Not that Farid would ever tell Master any of this; it would be far too disrespectful.

Draco did not seem to be anywhere as far as Farid could see. He searched the map reproductions of the library, the Slytherin dorms and the Great Hall. There were figures all over the map moving about. Master was in his study, Albus Greybeard in his office and Minerva McGonagall chatting to Sybil Trelawney in the transfiguration corridor. Farid was delighted when he managed to read the divination teacher’s name, as they were both long and difficult words as far as he was concerned. He stopped to imagine how unhappy Professor McGonagall would be at being stopped by Trelawney, since everyone knew how much the transfiguration teacher disliked her colleague.

There seemed to be no sign of Draco though, until finally Farid found his eyes drawn to the Quidditch changing rooms. In the middle of the Slytherin shower block there was a dot. It was not moving at all and it was labelled ‘Draco Malfoy.’

Farid did not stop to think or to call anyone else he simply disapparated. He had never been inside the Slytherin showers before so he headed for the Gryffindor changing rooms instead and rushed next door on foot.

The door was locked and there was no light and no sound coming from outside. A locked door and lack of illumination was no barrier to Farid, however. He simply turned the door handle and whispered, “Lumos,” under his breath. All the torches lit themselves immediately and Farid moved from the cloakroom to the shower block behind. Draco lay on the tiled floor in a crumpled heap. He was almost naked, clad only in his boxers and the small thermal vest that all of them wore for flying. The vest had ridden up his body exposing a stomach that was covered in bruises and welts. His mouth was swollen, his eye puffing up nicely and there was blood in his hair.

Farid crouched beside him and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. Draco flinched violently and then groaned.

“Draco, dyou vill be okay now. It is Farid. I vill take dyou to Madam Pomfrey. It okay if I touch dyou, jes?”

Draco looked up at him through swollen eyes. The shower room heating had gone off long ago and the boy was freezing cold and shivering. He nodded once tightly as if he was in a great deal of pain and Farid slipped off his robe and wrapped it around the frozen boy before helping him slowly to his feet.

Farid did not ask what had happened. In his opinion, that was fairly obvious. Someone had taken exception to the Slytherin defeat and had then taken out their frustration on Draco. It was quite a struggle to get Draco to a standing position. He was significantly taller than Farid and Farid found that he had to support Draco’s lankier frame by allowing him to drape himself over Farid. Draco’s legs were wobbling badly and the shivering had increased significantly. Farid suspected that Draco was going into shock. Farid knew well what could happen after a very severe beating; he had had plenty of experience himself in the past. Once he had Draco clasped firmly around the waist, he apparated them both to the hospital wing, hoping that Madam Pomfrey would be close by to offer help.

 

He had been there for nearly two hours now and Farid was feeling fairly frantic. He wanted to go to Master. He needed to go. He could feel Master’s fury pouring through the bond. Farid had promised that he would not be late and he just hoped that Master would understand why he had to stay with Draco until Seamus arrived. Farid couldn’t leave him. Draco had fallen asleep holding Farid’s hand and Farid had too often in his life been beaten like this, had felt helpless and weak, had been in pain. And never, until Master came at least, had anyone cared enough to comfort him. For Farid that had always been the worse bit, the aching loneliness afterwards when he had been shoved in a cage and left to heal. He could not abandon Draco.

Albus Greybeard was here, and Professor McGonagall, but not Master. Master was apparently dealing with a matter in the Slytherin dorms and not able to join them right now. The head of Gryffindor had left a few minutes earlier in order to fetch Seamus at last. She and Albus Greybeard had questioned Draco about what happened and, of course, it had taken some time to sooth his bruises and broken bones. Farid had held the blonde boy while he cried as Albus Greybeard tried to find out what had happened.

Draco had been attacked by a number of boys all wearing Ravenclaw robes and with Ravenclaw scarves wrapped around their heads to disguise their faces. Of course, no one had any doubt that the boys in question were Slytherin not Ravenclaw, but, as there was no proof, there was not a lot that Albus Greybeard could do. 

Finally Seamus arrived, closely followed by Ron and Blaise. There was some argument then about who would be allowed to stay, but Draco, woken by the commotion, insisted that he wanted them all there and finally Pomfrey gave in. At last Farid felt it was safe to go and find his Master, so he gave Draco’s hand a final squeeze and set off for the dungeons.

He tried not to apparate in the castle if he could help it. Albus Greybeard insisted that it was usually impossible for anyone to apparate at Hogwarts because of the wards. Farid could do it but it was a huge draw on his magic and he was usually exhausted afterwards. Today he had apparated twice, once with a passenger, and he knew he would not manage a third attempt tonight without splinching himself so, if he wanted to get to his Master as quickly as he could, this time he had to go on foot.

Albus Greybeard had said that there was a situation in the Slytherin dorms that Master was having to deal with, which is why he had not yet come to see Draco, so that’s where Farid headed first.

Farid could feel his Master’s fury mounting and he had to suppress the tendrils of fear that were winding themselves around his stomach. Master was never angry with him. He had always been patient, even when Farid had been terrified that he would not be. But Farid had had a lot of punishment in his life, a lot of pain, and a few short months of belonging to a fair and caring man could not erase all the years that had gone before. So it was with some trepidation that Farid made his way to the Slytherin common room. 

He knew the password, of course, because he belonged to the head of Slytherin and Master had always wanted Farid to be able to get to him if he was with his students. But as he whispered it and watched the portrait of Salazar swing open he could hear his master shouting and this time he had to steel himself to go in. He wondered if it would be better to wait in Master’s chambers. At least there, Master would have privacy to do whatever he wanted to do, but he was late enough already and did not want to make his Master crosser than he already was.

Master was in the middle of a huge argument when Farid entered. A number of the third and fourth years had had a massive row and had ended up hexing each other. Several of them were covered in spots, or sprouting tentacles, or wearing various body parts in the wrong place. Master was examining each of them and sorting out who would need to go to the infirmary and who he could sort out himself. He didn’t seem to be making much headway though as the argument still raged on and on.

Farid thought that it was quite a coincidence that the row had broken out today when Draco needed Master. He thought that Master would have investigated and worked out who was responsible for Draco’s beating. Albus Greybeard and Professor McGonagall simply did not know the Slytherins well enough to find the culprit, because Farid was convinced that no Ravenclaw was guilty of Draco’s injuries.

As he walked into the room the shouting halted and several of the children involved turned to look at him. Master turned to look at him too.

“Ahh, finally!” he sneered, “It’s the ‘Star of Gryffindor’! How kind of you to grace us mere mortals with your gilded presence.” Several of the Slytherins giggled and Farid flinched from the onslaught. Tears sprung to his eyes.

“Crying again, are we?” Master said, “Poor little slave. You do turn on the waterworks very easily, don’t you? Good at pulling my heartstrings, aren’t you? Playing the manipulation game?” Farid felt like Master was stripping him naked in front of all these children. He could feel his Master’s hurt, his feelings of rejection. Farid wanted to go to him, explain why he had been delayed. That he had not rejected Master that he had not preferred Sirius Black. But how could he say these things, air Master’s secrets in front of his students? There was no way that Farid could speak to comfort his Master right now so he kept silent, hoping that later he could tell Master what had happened and comfort him. So he hung his head and tried not to listen to the diatribe of scorn that was poured upon him. Master listed his limitations, his inadequacies, flaunted Farid’s weaknesses in front of these children and Farid just stood there and took it all, until Master obviously felt he had said enough and sent him away to await his punishment.

And Farid ran. He left the common room as quickly as he could to get away from all those staring eyes. He needed to hide, to be alone. Master had said it was a trial to have to teach him every thing, to have such a weight around his neck as Farid had turned out to be and it hurt. It hurt so much. Never had a beating felt so personal, so wounding. Finally Farid found himself beside a statue of Gwendolyn the Gormless in the second floor Muggle studies corridor. There was a niche in the wall behind the figure and Farid made himself as small as he could and crawled in to the gap between the plinth of the statue and the wall. He had been here several times in the past when things had all seemed too much and had found comfort in the cramped dark space. But tonight there was no comfort anywhere for Farid.

Master had never really been angry with him before. Farid had always tried to be good, because he didn’t want to be sent away. He knew that all he had ever wanted was to be loved, and he had truly thought that Master did love him. But the things that he had said tonight, in front of all those other children, maybe Master had had enough of him at last? Everyone did in the end, didn’t they? Everyone left him or gave him away. Farid wondered what was wrong with him that he caused people to turn on him sooner or later. Perhaps his parents would have hated him too if they lived? 

When Master had looked at him tonight, his eyes, his body language had portrayed only contempt for Farid and Farid felt empty, sliced open, cut to pieces.

He sat in his hiding place for as long as he could, trying to hold himself together. He had to find Master and take his punishment, whatever that might be. Because, if Master rejected him too, if he turned away, Farid knew he truly would be broken beyond repair.

He wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands and very slowly made his way to Master’s chambers. His feet felt like they had been encased in lead, his stomach was churning and all the time through the bond he could feel his Master’s cold, enduring anger.

“Oh hello, little slut, we’ve been waiting for you.” Farid stopped his progress and looked up to see Nott and several of his friends waiting for him, blocking the corridor ahead.  
He was just outside the Slytherin common room again and the portrait was wide open he could see some of the children inside watching him.

Farid dropped his eyes to the floor again; he felt too weak to fight these boys tonight, too wounded. He knew that they were likely to be the ones responsible for Draco’s beating and he did not wish to be anywhere near them.

“Pleas let me pass,” he said “I moost go to my Masteerr.” 

“Oh, I don’t think so,” the one called Nott drawled. “You see, it is punishment time for little whores and fun time for us. Your Master was quite delighted when we sorted out the earlier debacle between our housemates. You, Slave, are our reward.” Farid was horrified. He started backing away from Nott and the others, mutely shaking his head. He was unable to speak, struck dumb with horror. He had known Master was angry, could still feel his anger. But surely Master would not choose this as a punishment, definitely not this? Farid thought he would rather be beaten within an inch of his life, than have to give himself to these boys with their leers and their grasping hands.

But Nott produced a parchment and Farid recognised his Master’s handwriting at once. “See for yourself if you don’t believe me. Oh of course, the poor little slave boy can’t read very well, can he? Well listen carefully and I’ll read it to you.

“ _Farid, I am most displeased with you. Of late you have been wilful and disobedient. It is time you were reminded of your place. You are mine to do with as I wish and, for tonight, I gift you to Theodore and his friends for their entertainment. Please them, and I may consider forgiving you sometime soon. Disobey again and I will gift you to them for a week.”_

Farid did not know what to do. He could not believe that Master would give him away, but those were indeed the words that Master had used earlier, ‘wilful and disobedient.’

But, even as he continued to back away, Nott’s friends grabbed him and held his upper arms tightly. “Just one other thing, slut,” Nott was saying. “Your Master has written a word at the bottom of the parchment. He says it will help us enjoy ourselves more.” He leaned forward and whispered just one word in Farid’s ear. It was a word that Master had never used on Farid himself but it was one that he could not ignore. Farid’s cock immediately began to fill with blood and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The boys that surrounded him started to laugh.

“Look at him, the whore. He is such a little whore.”

“He is so fucking turned on.”

“Do you think he’ll do us all then?”

Something inside Farid shattered and he knew all at once that the parchment must be true. The word was part of his secret training; it and his other training words would have been given to Master when Master took over his ownership. Farid thought that there was no other way that these boys could have found out the terms used to train vampire slaves. Master must have told them.

Farid wished that he could die. Things were breaking inside him and he felt that he left little shards of his soul in his wake, like pieces of a broken mirror. But, he had to do as he was ordered. The bond would not allow him to disobey an order. Severus Snape was his Master and, for all this time, he had not shared him with anyone, so Farid had become complacent. He had thought this Master would never share him, but obviously he was wrong. 

A shard of soul was left behind.

This Master was like everyone else in his life. He did not love Farid as Farid had thought, he saw him as an object, a possession. Farid had forgotten that was what he was these last few weeks; he had believed Master when Master had told him that he would have a choice, because for the first time in his life he had felt like someone cared about him. 

Another shard broke away.

As if in a dream Farid followed the boys through the portrait hole and into the seventh year boys’ dormitory. He obediently drank the potion they gave him when ordered to do so, quite grateful for the fuzziness that settled over him as he swallowed the brew. He took off his clothes when told to and then knelt and opened his mouth as the boys who surrounded him laughed and whooped and giggled. 

Farid’s soul broke into even more pieces and he thought that at last there was nothing left to save him from the deepest despair.


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

Thanks Kim for the betaing. Missing you TQA

 

Chapter Thirty-Three

Severus was pacing his sitting room in front of the fire, waiting for Farid to arrive. The boy was late again and Severus realised that he had probably scared him far more that he had meant to when he had shouted at him in front of the entire Slytherin common room. Severus felt a pang about that; he should not have been so harsh with the boy. It had been his first ever party after all, was it so wrong that he had wanted to stay a little longer?

Farid had just come upon him when he was angry, that was all. He had received a summons from Albus to go to the infirmary, apparently Draco had been injured, but then some sort of battle had erupted in Slytherin and it had taken him nearly three hours to get everything under control again. In the end, Nott and several of the seventh year boys had stepped in and calmed things down. They had been absent initially, probably because they had almost certainly attended the Gryffindor party. Though why anyone would want to celebrate Slytherin’s defeat was beyond Severus. He supposed that the attractions of a rarely allowed treat of alcohol for the older forms had been the deciding factor for most of them. He had been quite pleased that Nott and the others had been so helpful and had told them he would find a way to reward them.

Maybe finally things were settling down. Now that Farid had defeated the Dark Lord, perhaps they realised that they had to try to get along with each other at long last. Perhaps the fact that they must have been at the party was another good sign?

Severus had been feeling quite mellow. After soothing the tempers of the Slytherins, he had come back to his chambers, half expecting Farid to be waiting for him in the corridor. But there was no sign of the boy. Feeling his irritation rise once more, he helped himself to another whiskey. He thought it was his fourth, but perhaps it was his sixth? 

He could not help feeling irked. He had been prepared to forgive his slave. Farid would have been able to sooth his annoyance and that would have been that, but it looked like Severus would have to punish him after all. He was startled when there was a loud knock on the door. He knew it could not be Farid, as he knew the password. Perhaps the boy was unsure of his welcome. As well he should be, Severus thought, drawing his brows down in frustration.

But it was a second year standing there. Esme Zabini, Blaise’s little half-sister stood with her fist raised to knock again when Severus flung open the door.

“Please, Professor, come to Slytherin. Your slave needs you.” she said earnestly.

Severus wasted no more time. He didn’t even stop to ask the little girl what was wrong. Instead, he ran along the corridor, staggering a bit as he really had had too much alcohol by now, closely followed by a small, dark haired little girl.

 

Later, much later, Severus sat once again in front of the fire. He had been shocked beyond belief by Farid’s actions tonight. When he had taught Farid to overcome his training he had never thought that Farid would then begin to sleep around. He had found his boy, bent over a bed, whilst Theodore Nott prepared to breach him. Farid had looked wanton, naked, flushed and hard and Severus had been disgusted.

He had known at once that these were probably not the first men that Farid had entertained. No wonder Black had kissed him on the Quidditch pitch earlier today. How many others had Farid slept with? Was it just since they had overcome his conditioning or had he always done it? Was that why Weasley liked him? Or Longbottom, or Malfoy? How many boys had seen that tight little arse? Severus was disgusted, he had dragged Farid back to his rooms and shouted at him about how repelled he felt by him, about what a little whore the boy was and all the time the slave had just stood there mute and defiant. Finally Severus had had enough and he had backhanded Farid with all his strength. The boy had gone flying across the room but Severus could not bring himself to care. In the morning he would deal with the boy. If he could bring himself to look at him that was.

Severus was overcome with self-pity. All of his life, what was his, was taken away. He had always lost out to richer, braver, more charming boys. Boys like Potter, like Black. He had thought that things were different with Farid, but obviously that bastard Black had wormed his way in and Farid had truly become the whore that he always was. Maybe he was far more like his father than Severus had ever realised? Potter had slept around, hadn’t he, before Lily? He had even almost slept with Severus once. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, eh?” he asked himself bitterly. 

Severus got up from his seat, swaying quite dangerously now and staggered over to the low table where he kept his whiskey. He downed another glass and then poured another to take back to his chair, which seemed cruelly to have moved back since he had gotten out of it and somewhat strangely also moved uphill. He felt truly alone tonight, unloved, uncared for and full of sorrow at his own misery, his head woozy with alcohol and feeling thoroughly wretched, Severus started to cry. 

 

 

The loud hammering would not seem to go away. Severus groaned to himself and snuggled into the sofa cushion but the banging persisted. Finally he got up and went to the door, swinging it open he found Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and a delegation of Gryffindors, including Remus Lupin, standing outside.

“Whadyou want?” he slurred.

It was the werewolf who answered. “We have come to see Farid. How is he?”

“He can’t be too bad, can he Professor, or he would have been in the hospital wing with Draco?” Blaise spoke that time. “I couldn’t believe it when Esme came to tell us what was happening. She did get to you in time, didn’t she?”

“That bastard, Nott!” Weasley was speaking now. “I knew he should have broken his legs when he tried to grope Farid last week. To think the wanker tried to rape him this time.”

Severus’ head hurt. He was trying to make sense of what they were saying. Rape, what did they mean rape? Farid raped?

He spoke rather shakily, “What are you talking about?”

Lupin looked at him hard, pinning him with a remorseless gaze. “Severus, we think that Farid might have been raped last night. Where is he?”

And all at once Severus was sober. He looked over at the corner where Farid had fallen. There was a smear of blood on the floor beneath the chest that the boy had crashed into and Severus felt cold. His insides had turned to ice.

“Raped?” He whispered.

Lupin grabbed him by his upper arms, just like Farid had been grabbed the night before, “Where is he, Severus?”

Severus’ lip quivered, “I don’t know.” He sank to the chair beneath him trembling with shock. He closed his eyes and, imprinted on his retina, was Farid as he had seen him last night and this time he had really looked at the boy. He had been battered, bruised, naked, bound. Someone had tied his hands behind his back; someone had fixed a belt around his neck like a makeshift collar. His eyes had been glassy, his face streaked with tears. Farid had not been with Nott willingly, of course he hadn’t. Farid would never readily go with anyone, not whilst he was bound to Severus he had always known that, really.

The alcohol, his own jealousy, his own self-pity had blinded him to the truth; the very obvious truth.

“Oh my God,” he said, so quietly, that he was almost not heard. “What have I done?”

The others were rushing from room to room, shouting Farid’s name, desperately searching. But no one answered; Farid was not anywhere to be found.

Lupin crashed down beside him. “Severus, you have to find him, reach him through the bond.”

Severus looked up at the anxious eyes of his newfound friend.

“I can’t, I shut it down.”

Remus closed his eyes. “Oh Severus,” he said shaking his head sadly, “What are we going to do with you?

“M Sorry,” Severus murmured, “So sorry.” 

“Severus,” Remus was speaking again. “Listen to me. Last night Esme Zabini came to find her brother. He was in the infirmary with Draco. Draco was attacked and beaten, Farid found him. He was worried that you would be cross with him, and from all reports you were. Esme says that she and some of her classmates saw Nott and his cronies read out a parchment to Farid, supposedly from you. The parchment was purported to say that you wanted Farid to entertain him and his friends. Esme then said that Nott whispered something to Farid and, I quote, ‘Farid’s thing got big’. 

“You had said that you would reward the boys, but Esme was worried. She watched the boys lead Farid away and then she saw them give him something to drink. She thought that this was all wrong because her brother told her to stay away from Nott, that he is a bad boy and that he wanted to hurt Farid, but that Farid is his friend, so she came to find him and he sent her to you.

“Zabini left Draco and headed back to the dorm, but when he got there Farid had already left with you. We thought you would be looking after him, Severus. We thought he was safe.”

“But I don’t know where he is,” Severus said his voice was cracking with sorrow. “We have to find him.”

“We do,” Remus answered. “Severus, you must concentrate. Listen to what I am saying; you cannot shut off the bond, not completely. You can block Farid but he could never block you.”

“But then he must have been overwhelmed!” Severus muttered, “I have been so angry, so jealous, Remus. I thought I would protect him from my emotions. I didn’t know.”

“I know, Severus. I am not cross with you, but you must reactivate the bond. We have to find him. Whatever he was given, I don’t know, but Severus, he should be able to feel your distress. If he has not come back to you by now, then he may not _be able_ to come back. The potion may have harmed him.”

Severus could feel himself shutting down, “What have I done? Oh God, Oh God. What have I done?”

“Severus, concentrate,” Remus was shaking him. “You must listen to me, man! If he has not come back already it is because he can’t. He cannot ignore the bond, and your distress will be calling to him. If he has not returned it is because he is unconscious.” Lupin stopped there, but it did not matter because Severus heard the words that were unsaid. “Unconscious _or dead_ ”. Severus choked back a sob.

“What do I do?” he whispered, “Tell me what to do.”

“Focus on Farid. Try and picture him, listen for him, listen to your heart. You can find him if you try.”

Severus closed his eyes. He tried to still his breathing, calm the mounting panic. He reached inside himself as deep as he could, searching for Farid. And this time, he listened and, as he did, he realised that he had never truly done this before, tried to hear Farid. He had assumed that he knew what the boy wanted. Had made decisions for him but never had he reached inside himself to hear what Farid needed most. Everything was black, dark, cold. Severus nearly despaired. Was it too late? Where was Farid? Something was digging into the boy, he could feel it. He ached all over, Farid did, Severus could feel it, but this something was pressing into his thigh demanding attention. It was hard, unyielding. All at once he knew what it was. Even in Farid’s unconscious state Severus could somehow see through him. He was up from the chair and running even as he shouted back to Remus, “A shoe, a shoe, he is lying on a shoe.”

He rushed into his bedroom and wrenched the cupboard door so hard that it came away from one of its hinges. At first it was too dark, but then he saw Farid curled as small as he could get amongst the discarded things at the back of the cupboard.

“Oh my love,” he whispered, “my poor little love.” Severus went down on his belly and crawled into the tight space. He reached the boy and laid a hand on a cold arm. Farid did not stir. Then Severus was scrabbling through shoes, old brooms, and a tennis racquet, desperate to reach the boy. Slowly, so slowly, he eased him out, until he held him in his arms. Severus could not believe that he had been so blind. The boy’s hair, his skin was smeared with ejaculate. His eye was bruising nicely where Severus had hit him and his mouth had a cut that had bled and then crusted over. He struggled to stand, and heard a chorus of gasps from the others. They had followed Severus and were crowded in the doorway, watching him bring the boy from the dark, enclosed space. 

“Oh Merlin,” Draco cried, “Look at his backside.” Farid was covered in welts. He had obviously been beaten even more savagely than Draco. Severus was sobbing now. How could he not have seen this? His boy, his Farid had been attacked and Severus had been too full of anger, of jealousy too fucking _drunk_ to even notice. 

Severus had made his way over to the bed and was gently lowering Farid down. “Sir, look at his mouth, there is something in it.” Seamus drew closer as he spoke. Farid’s mouth had fallen open slightly and they could all now see something white just inside. Severus hooked his finger in and gently drew out a white piece of cloth. When he spoke his words were infinitely sad.

“It is Farid’s underpants. They gagged him with his underpants.” The pants stank too; Severus did not even want to think about what they had done to them before they put them in Farid’s mouth. 

Gently he untied Farid. The boy’s arms had been pulled back and bound tightly behind his back. The delicate wrists were encircled by deep red marks where his bonds, made from a gold Gryffindor tie, had dug into his flesh. He had more trouble with the belt, which had been fastened into a thick collar. It was secured too tightly for Severus to undo and he had to cut it free, unavoidably cutting the delicate skin on Farid’s neck.

Belatedly, he realised that he was being watched. Too late, he tried to cover Farid with the bedcover. But his audience was comprised of those who loved his boy and he realised again how foolish he had been when he had resented how much they cared for Farid. Each and every one of the children standing round the bed was crying. Unashamedly letting tears pour down their cheeks as they begged Severus to make him better.

He spoke again, “Please Remus, can you go and sort this out. Find out who is responsible, get Albus to do something.” He could not have stopped the tears that were pouring down his own cheeks now, even if he’d wanted too. “I have to bathe him, to take care of him.” 

Remus ushered the others out, turning back to Severus before he left. “He will be alright Severus, won’t he? You will look after him?” Severus nodded; he could not trust himself to speak. He knew that this boy had been his to look after, given on trust. Severus had fucked up quite royally this time; he had gotten away Scot-free for his neglect, his foolishness. It was Farid who had suffered, and Severus knew that he would never forgive himself for what had happened. Severus knew that Nott and the others had worked out his weaknesses and used them. Severus had been played and Farid had been the prize.

He carried the boy to the bathroom and washed him gently, soothing the welts and washing away the filth that covered Farid. Oh so carefully, he dried him and placed a tender kiss on cool, unresponsive lips and all the time he talked away to Farid, promising him anything he could think of. As much time with Black as he could wish, parties every day, time with his friends, and, every so often, he begged the boy to wake up, please wake up. “I am sorry, so sorry Farid, so sorry my love, please come back, please forgive me.” Yet, from Farid, there continued to be no response, not even a flicker from the closed eyes.

Severus hoped and prayed that Remus would find out what the potion was. He thought that then at least he could work on an antidote. But deep down he knew that it was too late. Whatever Farid had been given, it had already been absorbed in his bloodstream. All he could really do was wait for the poison to work its way out of his system, maybe then his boy would awaken. 

With Farid washed clean of all the filth that marred his perfect skin and tangled his hair, Severus cradled the boy in his arms again and carried him back to the bed. Balancing Farid against one knee, he ripped off the cover on which he had laid him earlier and threw it to the floor. “I’ll never drink again my darling, please wake up,” he murmured into the boy’s soft neck, as he sank down onto the bed with his precious burden. “I am so sorry for what I said.” He lay back against the pillows and Farid’s head flopped into its usual place on his shoulder. “I’ll never raise my voice to you again, my love,” as he rested his cheek on Farid’s soft, dark head and let the tears flow unchecked, only to be absorbed by Farid’s soft black hair. “Please, please my beloved, please be alright.”

But, from Farid, there was no answer; he slept on, knowing nothing of his Master’s distress, finally free of the turbulent emotions that had tortured him for the past week or more. 

And Severus lay there, holding his beloved tightly. He felt no lust, no desire to pin the boy to the bed, no jealousy towards the others who so obviously cared for him. Finally, he seemed to have conquered his emotions, for what did they matter in the face of his boy’s safety? He finally realised how foolish he had been as he lay there cradling Farid against his chest, whispering words of love, praying for Farid to wake up. How incredibly stupid he had been, how selfish. He would willingly share Farid with anyone with whom the boy wished to spend time. For it was better to share him, to see the joy in his eyes and the smile on his lips, even if they were not for him, than to not have Farid in his life at all. He just hoped and prayed that his revelation had not come too late.


	34. Chapter Thirty Four

To Kim, for your birthday. Have a great one love! Missing you TQA.

 

Thirty-Four

When Severus awoke, the sweet weight of his boy’s head was resting on his chest. For a moment, just for a moment, he thought it was any normal day. But it wasn’t. Severus thought that things would probably never be normal again.

He stroked Farid’s cheek with the back of his hand. He ran his fingers rhythmically over the cheekbone and down to the jaw again and again, luxuriating in the soft downy smoothness. Farid still did not seem to need to shave very much and Severus had always believed that this was down to the effects of the vampire blood he had been given to inhibit maturity. Today though, there was a slight roughness, the hint of a prickle under the skin. 

Severus’ own cheeks were wet again. He had not cried for so many years now, the last time being when his mother died, the last time before Farid came into his life, that is. Severus’ insides twisted with guilt once again. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have lost control like that? How could he have let himself get so fucking pissed? Especially with the father that he had had, the childhood that he had suffered, how could he have done that to Farid?

If only he could live last night over again, how differently he would do things, he told himself. Just for a second, he tried to pretend that Farid was about wake at any moment and they would start a normal day. He would snark a little bit and Farid would smile and kiss him and make sure that he had all he would need for the busy day ahead. But Farid was still unconscious. Severus could tell that from the weight of the boy’s body against his, the fact that he was floppy and unresponsive, that his skin was slightly clammy, that his gorgeous eyes were closed. 

Severus gently removed himself from beneath Farid and, after first using a couple of quick spells to take care of Farid’s bodily functions, he headed for the bathroom himself. He left the door open, since Farid was lying where Severus could see him easily and could keep an eye on the sleeping boy. Severus was determined not to leave him alone, even for a moment. He was desperately worried about how Farid would be when he awoke; he was going to be there to comfort him. If Farid would have him, that is. 

He cast Tempus to find out what time it was and was startled to find out that it was 3:30pm. It was afternoon, he knew that, because a dull metallic light was doing its very best to illuminate the room through the spelled windows as there were no real windows this deep in the castle. It was very grey, but probably as light as it was ever going to be on a dull November afternoon this far north. 

He thought he would go through to the little kitchen and fetch some tea and then return to Farid. As he walked towards the door, he wondered what Albus had done about his classes that day. He opened the door to be confronted by the most remarkable scene. His sitting-room was crammed to the ceiling with all manner of strange and wonderful objects. Chocolate Frogs, Ever-Scented Flowers, huge boxes of chocolates with cover pictures that constantly changed, and more strange-looking cards and soft toys than Severus had ever seen in one place. Most of the toys were moving, as were some of the cards. Some of these peculiar items even seemed to be singing but they were emitting no sound at all. 

In the middle of this bizarre cavalcade sat an engrossed Ron Weasley, who was turning a Quidditch magazine upside down in order to look more closely at one of the pictures. 

Severus checked back over his shoulder to see that Farid was okay before hissing, “Weasley, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Ron smiled up at him sadly, completely unperturbed.

“’Lo, Professor,” he said calmly, obviously at ease amongst the outlandish objects that were currently taking over Severus’ chambers. “Why don’t you go and sit with Farid, and I’ll bring you something to eat and drink. Oatcakes, cheese and Earl Grey be alright?” Severus nodded dumbly. He had no idea whatsoever as to what might have happened to produce the extravaganza of awfulness that seemed to have descended on his elegant sitting-room, or how Weasley came to be part of it all, but he found that while Farid slept on, he didn’t really care all that much, either.

He made his way back to the bed, this time sitting down in the small upholstered chair that stood beside the bed. Farid would love the circus outside, he decided. Maybe he would carry him into the sitting-room later and tell him all about the bizarre happenings.

He reached over to stroke Farid’s hair, only to jump back somewhat guiltily when Ron came into the room carrying a tray. He set it beside Severus on the small table and, after considering the bed for a moment, sat himself on the floor instead.

“He looks so peaceful, doesn’t he?” he asked Severus. “You wouldn’t think he had had to deal with such crap, would you? How is he doing, do you think? How are you doing, Professor, come to that?” Ron looked at him with something akin to concern in his eyes.

Severus couldn’t answer. For some reason, this boy, who obviously adored Farid, was being nice to him, Severus, when really he deserved a good smack. Just like the one Ron had delivered to Black just a few short weeks ago.

But Ron was still looking at him enquiringly, so he just nodded and looked away. “Drink up, sir,” he was saying, “You’ll need your strength.” Severus obeyed, but not before offering the cup to Ron. 

“No, no thanks,” he said. “Can’t stand that stuff. It tastes like gnats piss, if you ask me. I’d rather have a coffee any day.” 

“What’s going on?” Severus asked.

“Oh, I cast a silencing spell because all those cuddlies were doing my head in. Most of them are spelled to sing variations of ‘Get Well, Farid’ and when they all go off together, which they seem to do every few minutes, they are enough to drive anyone mental! I thought that you needed some quiet so I zapped them.”

Severus was feeling frustrated.

“I don’t just mean with the toys, you foolish boy! I mean what has happened, generally, whilst I was asleep.”

Ron grinned up at him, “You haven’t lost your snark then, Professor? The world must still be turning then?”

Severus blushed, and Ron took pity on him then because he began to talk.

“Those _things_ have been arriving all day. Some of them were delivered by house elves. Some of them just appeared, which was a bit of a nightmare because then you are not sure if they are safe or not, and you have to try and catch them then. Took me and Neville and Hermione half the morning to check stuff over, then Herm put an exclusion spell around your rooms. Now only those that have been sent by close friends make it through. The rest are diverted to the kitchen area for the house elves to sort out. I hear that three rooms are full already. Hermione wasn’t too chuffed that the elves got involved, but she didn’t have a lot of choice. The elves are delighted, of course; it’ll keep them busy for weeks, apparently. 

“Hermione calls it the ‘Farid Effect’. He does seem to have acquired a lot of friends in a very short time, doesn’t he? Quite a few of them are for you, though. That monkey had your name on it.” Severus looked at where Ron was pointing to see a hideous pink monkey, which was swinging from the back of a chair, holding up a sign that read _“Hang in there, Sev. Thinking of you. From all at the ‘Fox and Ferret’.”_ Severus’s jaw dropped.

“I know!” Ron continued, “Weird, huh? Anyhow, I’m on duty right now, because we all decided that we couldn’t possibly leave you on your own, so we are helping you. Hermione and Draco have taken over your classes. I’m on baby-sitting service, for now at least, in case you need anything. Professors Lupin and Black will be along later, but you’ve got me for a while anyway.”

Severus was stunned.

“My baby-sitting service?” Severus asked, “Why would you..?” He was lost for words. This boy, whom he had never been particularly kind to, who he had unceremoniously thrown out his NEWT level potions class, was sitting with him? He was here for Farid, obviously, but Severus could not help being a bit touched just the same, but Ron was still speaking.

“You see, I think you have had a bit of a shit time, and that you probably need some support. Professor Lupin explained to us all about this bond that you and Farid are under. He said it is very powerful, that it acts through strong emotions, uses them to control those who have been bound by it, and that last night he thinks it probably pushed you over the edge. He thought you had been trying to control its effects for some time on your own and that finally last night you lost. So I’m here for you, and for him, of course.” His eyes softened as he looked back at Farid.

Severus’ eyes filled with tears.

“’Course, if you ever hit him again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Severus choked on his tea, but Ron seemed not to have noticed.

“He is a really special little guy, isn’t he? 

“When I first saw him I was really pissed off at him. There was this weird-looking kid, holding my girlfriend’s hand. I nearly smacked him there and then. But then, he asked me about Ginny and said he was sorry that she had died, and then I heard about some of the things he had been through in his life and I felt like a right wanker.” Ron’s eyes had filled with tears now and he was staring ahead into the near darkness that had quietly descended.

“Nobody ever talks about Ginny anymore, you know? No one even remembers her. But she was my little sister and I didn’t look after her. She was brighter than me, and funnier, and better in every way, really.”

He looked at Severus, his eyes glittering with more tears, ready to join the ones making their way unchecked down Ron’s cheeks.

“It should have been me that died. I wouldn’t have been missed as much as she was, I wasn’t as precious.”

Severus tried to say something, but Ron stilled him with a fierce look.

“Don’t try and deny it, because it is true. But this one, this funny, brave strong little kid, he gave me reason to live again. In some ways it’s like having Gin back, ‘cause she was like he is in some ways. I’d do anything for him. He is so strong, so full of life. He is stronger than us all. You know that, don’t you?”

Severus smiled wryly and nodded.

“He is going to be alright, you know,” Ron was continuing. “He has survived so fucking much, you know, that bastard of an uncle, the vampires, V….Voldemort. A little shit like Nott isn’t going to stop him for long. We’ll get him back; we’ll look after him. Yeah, and we’ll look after you too, Professor.” Ron stood up and squeezed Severus’ shoulder.

“Wwhy would you?” Severus whispered. “Why would anyone care about me?”

“I don’t rightly know,” Ron answered honestly, “Personally, I was never able to stand you. You were always a right nasty git to me and my brothers. But Farid loves you, s’obvious, shines out of him. Which make me think you must be alright, because he is a good judge of character, I think. And of course it’s obvious that you love him too. It sort of shines out of you too. You have been good to him, and loving, and you have really allowed him to grow. We’ve all watched that, s’impressive, considering how damaged he was when he first came.

Everything he does, it’s, ‘Must tell Master,’ or ‘Master says this, Master says that’. He fucking adores you. But this time you don’t have to look after him on your own cause we are here as well, for as long as you need us.”

He bent and picked up the tray. “I think that I’ll keep the others away, you look completely knackered. Tomorrow’ll be soon enough for visitors, I think.”

Severus watched him turn to leave, but just before the red haired man got to the door, Severus called him back.

“Ron,” he asked, “What happened to Nott and, erm and the others?”

When Ron turned back, Severus actually flinched, as the look on the normally cheerful face was nothing less than murderous.

“They are in the Room of Requirement. It is the only place in the castle that is strong enough to protect them. Professor Dumbledore wants to speak to you before he makes a decision. He better hurry up though, I reckon. The room won’t stop us getting to them forever. But you need to be there too, I think, so rest yeah?”

Severus nodded, too overcome to speak.

He sat and watched Farid for a while, turning over everything in his head, trying to make sense of everything that Ron had said and what it might mean. Sometime earlier the fire had been lit. Severus hadn’t noticed who had done it, probably Ron. But the dancing flames now provided the only illumination. He closed his eyes and massaged his temples. He didn’t know what time it was now, how long he and Ron had talked.

He buried his face in his hands and gave a deep sigh, who knew what the next day would bring?

He looked up to find himself being watched. Reflecting the firelight was a pair of multifaceted emerald eyes, regarding him with puzzlement.

“Farid?” he breathed, “ _Farid?_ ”

“Masteerr?”

Severus stifled a sob. He did not want to frighten the boy. So gently, carefully, he made his way over to the bed. Farid was lying on one side, facing him, still looking confused.

“Masteerr?”

“Shush, Darling, oh shush. It’ll be alright.” He was patting Farid’s face, touching his hair, reassuring himself that what he was seeing was real. “I’m here now. I am so sorry, but you are safe now, it’s alright, my love, alright.” 

Carefully he wrapped his arms around the boy, cradling him to his chest, as he scooted onto the bed beside him. Farid looked up at him. He was obviously bewildered.

“Masteerr, I’m sor…”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Severus said, gently placing a finger on the boy’s lips. “You have nothing whatsoever to be sorry for, my precious love, nothing to be sorry for. It is me that should be sorry, but we’ll not talk tonight, just rest right now.”

Farid’s brow was wrinkled, like he was desperately trying to remember something, but couldn’t think what it was.

After gazing at Severus for a moment or two though, he seemed to come to a decision and closing his eyes, he wrapped his arm around Severus’ waist and snuggled closer. His breathing slowed and seconds later he was asleep.

Severus sat like that holding him for hours, stroking his hair. Silent sobs wracked his body. He had never felt so happy and yet so sad in all his life. After all that had happened, Farid had still turned to him. Farid had woken and known who he was. Farid was battered, confused and still dozy from whatever potion he had been given, but he was alive. He was himself, it seemed, he had not been lost.

And tonight, for Severus, that was more than enough.


	35. Chapter Thirty Five

A/N. Farid is healing and this chapter shows the beginning of that, it will get better I promise and there will be happiness ahead for them both. It is safe to read this chapter but you may need a box of tissues! . Thanks as always to Kim who has been amazing this weekend with her mega quick betaing, and of course to TQA

BTW sorry that I have not answered any reviews this weekend my Internet connection has been really flukey and I have not been able to get online a lot, but I will get to them as soon as I can.

 

Chapter Thirty-Five

When he next awoke, Severus thought it was probably morning. The dull grey light seeping into the room made it seem that way, anyhow. Farid was still cuddled against him. He was obviously dreaming, since his eyes were moving rapidly behind their lids and occasionally he would mutter to himself and frown. Severus eased himself off the bed and wandered into the bathroom. 

He finished his ablutions quickly, but he decided to leave Farid for a little while; maybe a pressing need to go to the loo would wake him up at last? Severus could always spell him later if he had to.

It was Remus Lupin waiting on the other side of the door this time, and he rose to greet Severus as soon as he entered the ever more crowded sitting-room. Hundreds more gifts seemed to have arrived during the night, including what seemed to be a large crate of Puffskeins, which Severus studiously ignored.

“How are you today, Severus?” Lupin asked, a look of concern etched on his features. 

“I have been better,” Severus replied, “but it is not me I am worried about. Have you any idea what they gave to Farid?”

“Draco and Hermione had a look at a sample of potion that they found. Nott and his friends were very careless. They seem to have left plenty of evidence lying around. It seems to have been some sort of memory potion that they dosed him with, so Hermione thinks, but Draco said he thought it had been botched.”

Severus closed his eyes. “If it was brewed by Nott then it was almost certainly botched, that boy was always useless at potions. I need to have a look at the ingredients myself, Remus, because a memory potion should not knock him out like this, not for so long.”

“Maybe later then,” Remus said, “because right now you need to have some breakfast and there are quite a few people eager to see you both.” Severus could not quite believe that. He thought there were probably quite a few people eager to see Farid, but Severus felt thoroughly ashamed of himself and his actions, and wasn’t sure that he wanted to face anyone right now. 

“I think they need reassurance,” Remus was continuing. “Quite a lot of the children were worried that the bond might have been affected by what happened to Farid. They thought he might belong to Nott now, but I assured them that that was not the case.”

Severus felt weak. That possibility had not occurred to him, but suddenly it did and he found that all at once he had to sit down. “W…w..why,” he stuttered, “why isn’t it the case?”

Remus put a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, Severus,” he said kindly. “The bond is quite strong. You told me that Farid had had to um, _entertain_ a large number of men over the years. If there had been any risk of the bond transferring then he could not have done that. 

“Technically, every time Farid had to go with someone it would have been rape, because it was surely never Farid’s choice. In order for the bond to transfer, he would have to either have to be given away by his Master, as Yusuf did with you, or the slave would have to be taken by force and that would mean that whoever did the taking would have to be a stronger wizard than the original Master in order to overcome the bond. 

“I don’t think any of us are strong enough to take Farid from you, Severus, apart from Albus and erm….” He didn’t say the name but Severus knew who he meant: Albus and _Voldemort_. He thought that he would rather kill Farid himself than ever have him owned by Voldemort. If Yusuf was bad, the Dark Lord was indeed the stuff of nightmares. 

“This fucking bond is destroying us, Remus,” he said quietly. “Last night I was blind with rage and jealousy, though that is no excuse. I drank so much! I always promised myself that I would never drink, not after… not when my father was the way he was. How can I face him when he does wake up? He thinks that I gave him away, which is bad enough, but then, but then, when he was obviously hurting. I hit him and sent him away. How could I have done that? I nearly lost him, Remus!”

Severus was close to tears again, but Remus was no longer looking at him. Instead his eyes were locked on a petite figure standing in the doorway. 

When Severus had bathed Farid the day before, he had dressed him too. The boy wore one of Severus’ nightshirts, just as he had before when he had been unwell. It was far too big for him and hung off his small frame, exposing one shoulder and almost reaching the floor. He looked small and fragile and very young.

“Masteerr?” Farid said.

The boy’s eyes were wide as he absorbed the presence of all the peculiar objects that surrounded them, objects which seemed to have doubled in number since the night before.

“It is alright, Farid,” Severus said, “Come here. nothing in the room will hurt you.” Farid did as he was told, but, as he reached Severus, he did something that he had not done for a long time; he started to kneel.

“No, darling,” Severus said, grabbing him before he reached the floor, “come and sit beside me, no kneeling, you don’t have to kneel.” The large green eyes that looked at Severus then, almost caused him to weep; so uncertain, so lost was the expression that they portrayed.

Once the boy was seated, Severus turned him so that he could see his face. “I am so sorry, my own,” he said his voice cracking with emotion, “I am so sorry for what I did. Can you ever forgive me?” But the look that the boy gave him showed none of the warm laughter that was normally there, none of the love. He merely looked bewildered, bewildered and a little lost.

It was Remus who spoke to him then. Severus felt that he could not speak.

“Farid,” he said kindly, “do you know who I am?”

Farid looked even more bewildered at that. “Jes sir, dyou are Remoos Lupin, my Master’s friend.” Remus looked stricken now, though whether because he was unsure what to say next, or because Farid had described him as Severus’ friend and not his own, Severus did not know.

Lupin was carrying on, though. “Farid, we think you were given a memory potion. Can you remember what happened before you went to sleep?”

Farid hung his head, a fat tear fell onto his lap and he nodded sadly.

“Jes,” he whispered. He peered at Severus through his long black lashes and Severus said, “Tell him, Farid.”

Obediently, the boy began to speak in a sad little monotone. “I vas a bad slave and Masteerr vas wery cross, so he gave me to Nott, to make punish. He shouted zat I am bad and Nott and the ozer boys, they give me potion and then I not remember, but Masteerr still cross and che say I cham whore and slut and so do the boys, and they tell me to take clothes off and then I not know.”

Severus felt as if he had been gutted. Someone had taken his heart from his chest whilst it was still beating, and stomped it underfoot, so bad was the pain. He thought he was going to die.

“Farid,” he said quietly, desperately, “Listen my love, please listen. You were not bad; you were not bad at all. I was silly, drunk. But I did not give you away. I promise you that. I would not do that, never do that. Do you understand?”

The boy nodded, but said nothing.

“Farid,” Remus said, “you still think that you were given away, don’t you?”

This time, when the boy looked up, his eyes showed real fear, and this time he was shaking his head. “No!” he said, “No. Masteerr is right, vatever Masteerr say! Masteerr know best.”

Severus wrapped his arms about Farid, wishing that he would snuggle in as he usually did. The boy did not resist him, but neither did he melt into Severus’ embrace. Instead he just sat there, compliant, and unresisting.

“How did they tell you my wishes, these boys?” Severus said calmly. Once again Farid looked up with enormous eyes. 

“Zey read me dour letter, Masteerr. It vas handwriting and I cannot read handwriting and zen,” Here Farid gulped, obviously trying to overcome the emotions that were threatening to swamp him, “Zen zey use the word, that make me hard, zey zay zat dyou zay it to zem.”

Severus had suspected this, from the story that he had been told the day before. The boy had been tricked; they had used his weaknesses, and Severus’ weaknesses, against Farid. They had waited for the right opportunity and had seized it when it came.

Severus thought that this was not the proper time for this, that the boy should have a bath and be eating some breakfast right now, resting. He had done terrible things to Farid, he knew that he had. But he had not done this. He had not given him away and could not bear for him to think that Severus had given him away, would ever give him away. He could not allow it, not even for another moment.

He held his boy tight against him, stroking his hair and making idle circles on his back.

“I am not cross with you, Farid. You did no wrong. But those boys, they lied to you. I do not know how Nott came to know your word, but I did not tell him. I would never do that. It was my writing, I am sure, but it did not say that you should go with them. I would never share you with anyone. Not like Yusuf.

“Do you understand? Not like Yusuf?”

Farid looked totally confused, but he repeated after Severus.

“Not like Yusuf.”

“I love you, my darling,” Severus was continuing, “I love you with all of my heart. I am so sorry about last night, so sorry that I hurt you, do you understand? Please forgive me, Farid. Please forgive me?”

He had Farid pressed against his chest now and was rocking back and forth, muttering to himself, “I am sorry, so sorry,” over and over again. Finally Farid put one of his hands on Severus’ arm. “It okay, Masteerr,” he said, “It vill be okay.”

And at those gentle words, Severus was undone, and he began to sob in earnest. Farid slipped his arm around Severus’ back and started to pet him, albeit somewhat ineffectually.

“It okay, Masteerr. It okay.”

 

Farid was asleep again. Severus had finally calmed down enough to realise that, once again, Farid was comforting him when it should have been the other way around. The boy had awoken, bewildered and groggy from the potion and then Severus had proceeded to cry all over him once again, forcing Farid to console him. 

Whilst Remus had looked on worried and confused. 

It had been the werewolf who had finally told Severus to control himself and sent Farid off to wash and change. Remus had ordered breakfast and had sat beside them, pointing out some of the gifts and toys that had been sent to them both over the last two days. Farid had perched on his chair between the two of them, and eaten when told to, and looked at everything he was asked to look at, and even smiled once or twice if he thought he needed to.

But it seemed to Severus, that it was almost as if Farid were absent, playing the part of dutiful slave as he had done so many times before.

Once, when Severus was a little boy, he had been to visit a friend of his mother’s. She was a Muggle and lived in a house with a reinforced glass window. The thick patterned glass of the window was supported by wire mesh. And one day someone kicked a football and shattered the glass, but the mesh held it together even though it was cracked and broken. Severus was very frightened that Farid was like that window. He had been broken into lots of little pieces, which he was somehow holding together. His eyes were too bright, his smile was brittle and his hands shook when he tried to feed himself.

Later, when the other students came to see him, he was welcoming as always and polite, if a little subdued, but he was the only one to go up to Draco and touch his bruised cheek, to notice that Draco too had been battered.

“Poor Draco,” he had said, “Are dyou still sore?”

And Severus realised with a jolt that Farid had not stayed late at any party, had he? He had stayed to help a friend. Had rescued him after a beating and remained with him, risking Severus’ own anger so that he would not be alone. For that act of kindness and compassion, he had paid a very heavy price indeed.

Farid patted Draco on the arm gently, but he did not hug him like he would have done just a few days before. He constantly checked with Severus to see what his Master was doing, how he was reacting. There was something not quite right, he was too distant, too detached. It was almost as if Farid was an actor, playing himself in the story of his life.

Then Severus took Farid and Remus with him into his potions lab to analyse the sample that he had been given. Farid, his eyes heavy with sleep once more, had curled up on the battered old sofa and fallen asleep. Severus worked on, showing Remus his findings; he was far more comfortable, he knew, researching the ingredients that Farid had been dosed with, than comforting the boy or confronting his own emotional outburst. 

“He used too much bi-corn horn, see,” Severus said, “and mixed with the comfrey and the willow-bark, it is acting as a soporific. I don’t think that the memory potion itself was very effective. I surmise that it will wear off over the next few days. Farid will probably have nightmares and flashbacks,” he commented with a pang, because if the potion had been effective then Farid would not have remembered Severus’ words, or his violent behaviour. And more importantly, he would not have had to remember what had been done to him this time by violent fools just using his body for their own pleasure.

The room was quiet; Remus was looking up the ingredients of the potion in a book about soporifics, the fire burned merrily in the grate, Brahms was playing quietly on the gramophone, when all of a sudden Farid sat bolt upright on the sofa. His eyes were wide and staring, like he could not see what was truly in front of him, the comforting scene in the lab. Instead, he was blind to his surroundings, and fixated instead on some nightmarish scene. His breathing was shallow and rapid. His hands extended, trying to hold off whatever was coming for him. Remus rushed over and gently laid a hand on Farid’s shoulder and the boy flinched violently and began to scream.

And this time, Severus held him, whilst Farid screamed and pleaded and battered him repeatedly with his fists. Whilst delicate glass vials and instruments exploded and smashed all around him and books flew from the shelves. Until, finally, he was awake enough to be cuddled like a small child whilst he wept, as Severus stroked his hair once more and agreed with him that it was not fair and that he did not deserve what had happened to him, not just this time but ever before. Farid was a good person, he had always been a good person and he deserved to be loved and cherished, not beaten and abused. He had never deserved that, but he had never said this before, either. He had taken everything that life had thrown at him and never asked _why me?_

But this time he did. This time, he howled his grief and his pain to the Heavens and to Severus, and Severus held him and loved him and promised that he would never, ever leave. And this time Farid believed him, truly believed him and maybe, perhaps, he began to heal, just a little bit.

This time, when Severus held him, he did melt into his Master, just like he always used to do. He snuggled close and held Severus’ robes tight in his fist and this time, he seemed just a little more like his usual self. And Severus dared to hope that, eventually, things might be all right again for him and for Farid. Maybe, perhaps, one day soon.


	36. Chapter Thirty Six

A/N Okay, the last few chapters have been dreadful for Severus and Farid, but things are slowly getting better now so it is safe to read again! Thanks Kim for the amazing job betaing 8,000 words in one day - which means that the next two chapters will be up soon

 

Thirty-Six

Albus’ office was as crowded, for the Expulsion Hearing, as Severus had ever seen it. All the teachers were there, and even a couple of Aurors. They included a pretty pink-haired girl who was somehow related to Black and was currently in a relationship with Remus. Tall, handsome Kingsley Shacklebolt was the other Auror. He caught Severus’ eye and gave him a wink and a quiet smile. Shacklebolt and Severus had had a bit of a fling when Severus was in his early twenties. It had been a more innocent time somehow, after Voldemort had been temporarily defeated and before Severus had become bitter; he remembered it with fondness. He and the other man had retained a rather tentative, but nevertheless long lasting, friendship. 

A number of the more senior pupils were there too; because they had asked to be, and Albus had thought them mature enough to attend. Two of their own had been attacked after all, the night that they were at a party, and it had unsettled them, made them angry, very angry indeed. 

Draco was sat opposite Severus; his bruises were still in evidence. Right beside him was Seamus; looking a little worse for the wear himself, but holding Draco’s hand tightly as if he would never let the other boy go. Ron and Blaise sat close by. They appeared a little battered too, but nowhere near as bad as Nott and his cronies who looked as if they had gone several rounds with one of Hagrid’s larger pets. 

One of the few people who were not here right now was Farid, who Severus had asked not to come. He was worried about the boy, so quiet, so withdrawn had he been since he had woken up. The other absent person was, of course, Sirius Black. Severus had Remus had decided between them, that it really would be best to keep Black away from the proceedings entirely, especially as Black had promised that, if he came across one of the boys who assaulted his godson, that he would tear their throats out with his teeth. And just for them he wouldn’t even transform himself into Padfoot first, since the teeth of humans hurt more than most animals and were far more likely to cause serious infection and permanent harm.

So, of course, they were together. It had taken quite some time to persuade Farid to go flying with Black. He had not argued. Farid had never argued with Severus, had he? But he had used humour and subtle persuasion to tease Severus out of his fiercer moods. Severus had always been irascible and Farid had never seemed to mind; he had put up with Severus’ temper and yet, somehow, Severus didn’t think that the boy had ever done anything that he hadn’t wanted to do – at least since their move to Hogwarts. Severus had loved treating him well and indulging him. It had only been in the last few weeks, when the bond had tightened inexorably, that jealousy and mistrust had started creeping in on Severus’ part; he had stopped seeing Farid’s exuberance as a joy and started resenting the friends that he had made.

But it was Farid’s talent for friendship that ensured the overwhelming support that the wizarding world had shown them both in the last few days. The hundreds of letters and gifts continued to pour in, supporting Farid and telling him that he was loved, and of all things, supporting Severus too.

No one seemed to blame him for what had happened. The fact that he was enthralled by a magical compulsion seemed enough for most people. Severus had feared Black’s reaction most; but his erstwhile enemy had simply pulled Severus into a rough, one-armed hug and suggested that any angry action on his part could hardly be justified.

“After the way I behaved around him the first few days he was here, I don’t have any right to criticise you, Sev. That really would be the pot calling the cauldron black, wouldn’t it?”

So, Severus had gotten off lightly, as far as the wizarding world was concerned; they didn’t blame him at all for what had happened to Farid. The trouble was, Severus blamed himself.

He blamed himself for the fact that Farid was biting his lip again. That he was as submissive as he had been when Severus first rescued him. That the flashes of happiness, the laughter, the sheer vivacity that so characterised Farid, was missing at present and Severus was seriously worried that it was gone for good.

Last night, after the hysteria had ended and Farid was quiet, Severus had taken Farid to bed and the boy had quietly lay there and spread his legs waiting for Severus to fuck him. So many times in the past he would have done just that, but Severus couldn’t anymore; he couldn’t use Farid just for his own pleasure as he had on numerous other occasions. Things had changed. 

For the first few months that Farid was with him, Severus had seen the boy as his; his to get pleasure from, his toy to please him. But then he had discovered that seducing Farid, bringing him to an explosive orgasm, was so much better, so much more arousing. He found out that delivering pleasure to someone, who had been so starved of such a thing in his life, brought almost unimaginable pleasure to Severus too. Encouraging him to make friends, to develop interests had also brought him deep joy. Farid had always been more to him than just a willing slave, hadn’t he? But Severus noticed that most, now that it was gone.

Farid was haunted by what had happened. The recent rape had seemed to open a dam of memories and Farid was drowning in them. Remus suggested that such a thing might have happened anyway, sooner or later. That, in fact, after all that he had been through, Farid had to work his memories or he would have collapsed very hard indeed one day soon. 

But seeing Farid this morning, paralysed with fear, had nearly caused Severus to become undone. He had found the boy standing in the sitting room, trembling madly and staring at something white on the floor ahead of him. He had, it seemed, been overwhelmed with terror. The offending object was a pair of underpants, just like the ones that he had been gagged with. Severus had removed them quickly and hidden them away, but Farid had not stopped trembling, or staring into space with a haunted look in his eyes, for at least an hour afterwards. He had stayed that way until Black had come and taken the reluctant boy flying.

And now, Severus sat opposite the boys that had caused Farid such pain and suffering. Nott seemed unconcerned and the other two, whilst worried about their own filthy skins, sat across from him, uncaring about the destruction that they had wrought in his life, in Farid’s.

Nott had a defiant look on his face and the other boys just looked scared. Of course Nott’s defiance was somewhat undermined by his black eye and fat lip. Since Ron sported a similar shiner, Severus was certain that the redhead had had something to do with it.

They had been arguing for more than an hour now, all of them. Whilst everyone _knew_ what the boys and done to Farid, and indeed to Draco, there was no real proof. Nott insisted that Severus had given them the parchment that instructed Farid to allow them to do as they wished, whilst Severus vehemently denied such a thing to be true. But there was no way to prove that, was there? Whilst memories of something which _had_ happened could be extracted from a person’s mind, how could one prove what hadn’t happened?

Nott and the other boys, Colburn and Johnson, were too young to be given Veritaserum and nobody could be forced to give pensieve testimony against their will. The only way to extract memories against the subject’s will was to use forced Leglimency and then extract those memories recovered from the Occlumens, but this method was considered completely unethical and, once again, they were too young and their supposed crimes were not considered bad enough for them to be forced, even if the subject of ethics could be surmounted.

Of course all of them denied hurting Draco.

Severus was toying with the idea of threatening resignation; since there was no way that he was going to subject Farid to the possibility of coming face to face with these monstrous children as he went about his daily life at Hogwarts.

But then, there was an almost inaudible knock at the door. Albus was also very frustrated; Severus could see he was very unhappy about what had happened, not only to Farid, whom the man was fiercely protective of, but also he was deeply angered by what had happened to Draco, something which had undoubtedly surprised the boy himself.

Nevertheless, everyone flinched when Dumbledore, who rarely raised his voice, barked out the command, “Come!”

The small, dark head of Esme Zabini peeked around the door.

“I am sorry to disturb you, sir,” she said in her whispery little voice, “but um, some of us were there the night that Draco and Farid were, um, er, _hurt_ and we wondered if, we thought that perhaps, we ought to, um, come and tell you what we saw.”

Nott’s scowl deepened, but Dumbledore beamed. “Certainly, my dear girl,” he answered, “Do come in, we would love to hear what you have to say.”

Esme opened the door and came into the room. Severus was not the only one who gave a gasp of astonishment as she was followed into the room by two thirds of Slytherin House. All of the first, second, and third year, and most of the forth year Slytherin children crowded into the room in her wake. Interestingly enough, the small office seemed to increase in size to accommodate the extra numbers.

Once inside the room, the children stood nervously in several rows, with the smallest of them, including Esme, at the front. There was lots of shuffling of feet and peering at adults through eyelashes and fringes. 

Nott’s scowl grew, if anything, even darker, and he muttered, loud enough that Severus and the children could hear him, but quietly enough that most of the other people in the room might doubt what he said, “I’ll get you for this, Zabini!”

That comment though, seemed only to stiffen the little girl’s resolve, because she stood a just a tiny bit straighter, looked Nott directly in the eye and launched into her story without more ado.

The children’s testimony took ages to deliver; they got confused at times and contradicted each other. But not on the important bits of their story about what had happened to Draco and Farid, and who was responsible for it; on those facts every single one of them agreed. Theodore Nott, Alan Colburn and Stuart Johnson, had transfigured some robes, from Slytherin ones to those of Ravenclaw and assaulted Draco. Returning to the common room approximately one hour after they had left, covered in blood and boasting happily about what they had done to their hapless seeker.

Then, with apologetic looks from several of the children directed in Severus’ direction, they detailed the argument that had taken place that evening, one that had been directed and stage-managed by Nott to serve as a distraction. They interjected and interrupted each other and they went on to detail exactly what Severus had said to Farid when he had arrived, repeating how he had shouted and some at least of what he had said. Severus could hear the gasps of some of the others in the room, as the sheer cruelty of the scorn that he had poured on the defenceless boy in his drunken rage, was laid bare for all to see.

Then the children told what they had seen of what had happened next. Nott, it seemed, had brewed the memory potion two days beforehand. The three of them had planned the beating that they had given Draco, not caring whether the other children had overheard snippets of their conversation. The boys, it seemed, had been planning the rape for weeks. One boy told of how Colburn had produced the parchment; it had been a list of comments on a recent report that Severus had written. A third year girl spoke of how she had heard Nott boast to others how his father, who had apparently negotiated with the vampires on Voldemort’s behalf long before Severus had visited, had sent his son a list of the training words that the vampires used on their slaves. Farid had never met him, Severus thought, but Severus should have remembered; had Draco not warned them of the association after all weeks before?

Then the children went into detail of how Farid had been stripped naked, and taken into a side room, and Esme had gone seeking help from her brother and later from Severus himself. Finally, they told the assembled listeners how Severus had descended, dark with fury and dragged his boy away from Slytherin, and how they had all been very scared indeed for Farid and worried for Draco, and, because the older forms had been away at the Gryffindor party, they had not known what to do. So they had taken themselves to bed, resolved to discuss it after they had all slept. Later, finally deciding that they had to tell the headmaster what had happened, however frightened by events they had been. 

Silence descended. For a moment, nobody spoke. The sheer horror of what Farid, and indeed Draco, must have gone through that night was apparent to every one. Severus wanted to run from the room and prostrate himself at Farid’s feet, begging his forgiveness. Not that he deserved it, he thought. But, as he looked up, he caught Remus’ eye and the werewolf smiled at him kindly and Severus felt simultaneously blessed and unworthy of such support.

But, all at once, Nott was on his feet hurling abuse at Esme Zabini.

“You fucking little bitch!” he spat. “Where’s your house loyalty? You fucking cun….” But whatever else he might have said was lost as Blaise reached him and laid him out flat with one well judged punch to the jaw.

But Esme was obviously not about to be cowed by Nott, because she turned to her brother and said, “It’s okay, Blaisie, I’m not frightened of him.” She walked over to the prone Nott and stood over him, glaring down at the ungainly heap at her feet.

“You are the one with no house loyalty,” she said calmly. “We didn’t know that you were planning to beat up Draco when we staged that fight; we thought that you were just going to play a trick on the Gryffindors. Draco is our seeker and he flew his best on our behalf; we should have been sympathising with him, not kicking the shit out of him.” Several people gasped at that, but Severus thought it was probably at the incongruity of such a word being said by the dainty, ladylike Esme. He was sure that there were very few people in that room right now who did not agree with the sentiment of her words.

“And as for what you did to Farid,” she continued, “That was unforgivable; you _raped_ him. Because he is normally more powerful than you are, you manipulated him and the Professor so that you could hurt him and that is despicable as far as we are concerned. We have all decided that you are no longer members of Slytherin House!”

She was supported by murmurs and shouts from the assembled children and, leaving Nott curled on the floor holding his jaw, she turned and rejoined her housemates waiting for what would happen next.

Albus thanked them. He thanked the children for standing up and telling the truth and doing what was right, he told them how proud he was of them and he awarded each child present ten points each and Esme, fifty. As there were approximately seventy or more children in the room at that moment Severus knew that they had won the house cup already as surely such a score could not be beaten?

Things moved quickly after that. The younger Slytherins filed out and the fate of Nott, Colburn and Johnson was quickly discussed. Shacklebolt suggested that he should go and speak to Amelia Bones about the situation and what might be done; as he thought what the boys had done deserved a far more severe punishment than expulsion and that he would be recommending a prison term on both the assault and the rape charges. He also said that the boys should be returned to the Room of Requirement with enhanced protection for tonight, as what had been used until now was obviously not enough.

Severus almost laughed when he heard Ron mutter to Neville that the room had worked just fine and that he and the others had had a requirement to have a little word with the boys who had beaten Draco and raped Farid. “We were fair though,” he continued, “we took one each, Me, Seamus and Blaise. We didn’t gang up on them like they did to Draco and Farid.”

“How come they don’t remember, then?” Neville had asked voicing a question that Severus had wanted to ask. “Well, we had a requirement that they would forget who had a little word with them,” Ron answered, “Dumbledore might know that we did it, but he has no proof, and I think he wouldn’t search too hard to get any anyway. It was Hermione’s idea, how we used the room. We had to keep her out, though; she threatened to remove Nott’s balls with a blunt, rusty spoon. I am not even sure that’s possible, but if anyone could do it, Hermione could. She can be right scary, that girl, when she wants to be!”

Severus couldn’t help wishing for a little of Hermione’s ingenuity right now, and he also wished he could take a little visit to the Room of Requirement and wait for the boys to return. He rather thought though, that Albus would have sealed up any loophole that Hermione might have found by now; which was a pity. 

But Severus could wait. 

Someday, somehow, he would make those boys pay for what they had done. His feelings must have shown on his face, because his eye caught Johnson’s and he saw that the boy had paled and started to shake. He had nudged Colburn and gestured in Severus’ direction a look of naked terror on his face. Severus smirked back at them, and ran a hand across his throat in a cutting gesture. He was very gratified indeed when he saw that their terror intensified. It wouldn’t hurt them to spend the next few years wondering when he would be coming for them, and what he was planning to do when he finally caught up with them.

Finally the meeting ended. McGonagall, Flitwick and the two Aurors escorted the three Slytherin boys from the office, but Severus wondered whether they would make it back to their room completely un-hexed, and whether the adults protecting them would bother to deflect every curse that came their way.

What had happened to Farid and indeed, to Draco, had incensed the whole school. Severus had escaped the wrath of many, he suspected, because he had been seen as someone who had been manipulated into behaving the way he had. It was a supposed secret how powerful and controlling the bond was; which meant, of course, as Albus was fond of saying, that the entire school knew all about it. However, he still found it difficult to meet anyone’s eye. He was, after all, deeply ashamed of what he had done and now, with the Expulsion Hearing over, the time had come to return to Farid. Severus felt the shame of his behaviour, which had been laid out starkly before him for examination by a group of children, gnaw at his gut like a living thing as he left as quickly as he could with out speaking to anyone at all..


	37. Chapter Thirty Seven

Thirty-Seven 

Remus caught up with him as he stalked down the corridor towards his rooms.

“Severus,” he shouted, jogging to catch up with Severus’ long stride, “Wait a moment!” So Severus waited.

“Are you okay?” Remus asked, his face full of concern as he caught up with Severus.

Severus smiled wryly. “Not really, no,” he answered, “I can’t believe that I did what I did. When I heard it laid out before me today, what I had said, by those children who heard it all, I just wanted to curl up and die. The worst of it was that what I did later injured him even more. I don’t think that I am ever going to forgive myself, Remus. I hurt him so much.”

They kept walking along side by side on their way to the dungeons, drawing curious glances, but no one approached them or tried to stop them.

“I think you have to, Severus,” Remus replied. “You have castigated yourself enough, I think. If Farid is to forgive you, then you have to forgive yourself first.”

“I don’t know if I can, Remus,” Severus said in strangled tones, “But I do know one thing: I do have to overcome my feelings of insecurity, of jealousy. I am an adult; it is up to me to at least try to be the strong one. Farid is still barely more than a child and yet he has comforted me, supported me, loved me, right up until got so fucking drunk, so eaten up with jealousy, that I overlooked the fact that he had been assaulted and then assaulted him myself. For so much of my life I let my bitterness, my anger dominate me, and that is what the bond fixated on, used against me. I have overcome Imperius, fought Cruciatus, and battled for half of my life against a Dark Mark. This bond will not rule me any longer. It is time I put the past behind me and finally grew up.”

Their eyes met and Remus nodded; Severus thought he caught a glimpse of pride in the werewolf’s eyes.

“You know where I am if you need me, don’t you Severus?” he said tightly and he leaned forward and embraced Severus before turning on his heel and walking away.

 

They had gotten rid of most of the gifts now, there was just the crate of Puffskeins, - which were destined for the first year girls’ dorm - and a small wicker basket that had only arrived that morning and which they had not yet opened.

Somewhere in Severus’ rooms, the pink monkey was definitely hiding and, every so often, he would pop up wielding his placard but, as yet, Severus had been unable to catch him. Black had left ages ago; he had been the one helping Farid before Severus arrived. The boy had not wanted to fly for very long, according to Black, but had insisted that he wanted to wait in their rooms in case his master came back and needed him.

Severus was worried about the boy even more now, Farid loved flying more than just about anything else, and Severus eyed him surreptitiously wondering how to broach the subject that was foremost in his mind right then.

Farid was kneeling by the Puffskeins; he had checked them over to see if they were all alright. He was working diligently helping to sort through the huge number of gifts but, since Severus had arrived, he had said barely a word. 

He turned then and opened the wicker basket in front of him and froze, eyes wide. Severus made to rush over to see what was wrong but, before he got there, Farid had reached inside and drew out a tiny ball of black fur. He held it close to his chest and ran a gentle finger down its head. He sat like that for a moment or two holding the tiny scrap tenderly. After a little while he spoke, tentatively, carefully.

“Masteerr, it is frighted.” he said, looking up imploringly at Severus with wide green eyes. “moost we give it away to the first year girls? I zink it is frighted to go.”

Severus almost smiled. It was the first time that Farid had really asked him for anything, for himself, ever. Even if the request was indirect, it was obvious that the boy wanted to keep the kitten. Severus thought that he would make Farid work just a little harder though to earn his prize, because of course he would allow him to keep it.

He walked over to the boy who was curled on the floor, cradling the tiny creature and knelt beside him. “Would you like to have the kitten, Farid? Is that what you are asking me?”

Farid stiffened, and Severus felt sad. What had happened to this boy, that he was afraid to ask even the tiniest favour of anyone, even Severus, who had never once denied him?

But he obviously really wanted this creature to stay, because Severus could almost see him stiffening his resolve.

He nodded and, still refusing to meet Severus’ gaze, said in a tiny voice. “Jes please, Masteerr, can I keep chim?”

“Of course you can, my love, if you want too.” Severus answered wanting to twirl him around with delight, wanting to shout his success to the rooftops. It was a minute success but it was indeed what he had been seeking for sometime now. Farid had wanted something and had asked for it.

He sat himself more comfortably, ruefully noticing the stiffness in his knees when he knelt, and ran his own hand over the kitten’s head, eliciting a tiny purr. The little animal looked up at him with eyes that he noticed were almost as green as Farid’s. “Have you thought of a name?” he asked, trying to make light of the momentous occasion.

“Can I shoose a name for chim?” Farid said in astonishment, and this time he did look at Severus. If anything, his eyes were even wider than before.

“Well, he is your kitten,” Severus answered mildly, “I think it only right that you should name him. Then we need to go and talk about your rights, what you can expect from now on.”

The boy hung his head at that, obviously unsure about what to expect.

He stood when Severus did though, and obediently followed his Master into the kitchen where the kitten was offered a saucer of milk, which it eagerly lapped up and then, still cradling his precious bundle, back to the sitting room where he joined Severus on the sofa. 

“It is time for us to talk, Farid,” Severus began, noting that the boy’s head was still down, eyes fixed on the floor. What on Earth was the child expecting him to say? There was no point keeping him in suspense any longer, so Severus began.

“I hate this bond, Farid,” he started, almost faltering as viridian eyes flashed up and looked at him, almost searing him with their intensity.

“I hate what it does to me. It plays on my baser instincts, most negative emotions and distorts them, twists them. Then the other night….” Here he did falter, “the other night, they overwhelmed me, Farid. The feelings that I had, of anger, of jealousy, combined with all the alcohol that I had consumed, was what made me hurt you so badly and I don’t think I can ever truly tell you how sorry I am. I would do anything to take back what I did to you, what I said. Do you understand?”

The boy’s eyes had dropped again now; he was looking at the kitten curled in his robes, almost as if he were pretending that he was alone, but nevertheless he nodded. It would have been almost imperceptible to anyone who was not looking for it, but it was indeed there.

“You are now, and will always be, safe with me,” Severus told him. “I will never let alcohol affect me as it did last night, this I promise you.” 

As he spoke, Severus walked over to the ornate sideboard that stood against one wall. He opened the cupboard where he kept his prized whiskey and took each bottle out, one at a time. He had collected it over a number of years and was inordinately fond of each one of the precious malts. “That will never happen again,” he told the boy. “Never will I allow myself to lose control around you like that, Farid. And to ensure that I don’t, these will go.” Then, as if to prove his point, he stood back and pointed his wand at the alcohol and vanished it all, bottle by bottle, as Farid watched through hooded eyes. 

“I do not think that this bond can be dissolved. Remus, Hermione, Ron, they have searched for months and yet no one has found a way to remove it. So, I think that perhaps we will always be bound together.”

Farid was still watching him, but this time through his lashes, obviously uncertain about what Severus was trying to say.

“If it were not such an unequal bond, so restrictive, I do not think that I would mind so much. But it is restrictive. It makes you call me ‘Master’; it made me think of you as a possession. But I will not allow it to dominate me any longer. It is a compulsion and I am going to fight it. 

“This morning I went and saw Hermione, and we talked about how I could give you some more freedom. She told me that the American Muggles and indeed many other countires have something called a Bill of Rights; I think that American wizards do too. They have something called a Constitution; the rights of all Americans are laid out in that document. I am sure that things do not always go how they should for all American citizens, but at least they have made an attempt at ensuring equal rights. That is something that I want you to have, Farid: rights. Rights that you know about and understand.

“If you had known three nights ago, that I would never share you with anyone, never ask you to do what Yusuf had done, I know that Nott would never have gotten his claws into you. We probably would have still had that row, or rather I would probably have still treated you so badly, but you would not have been raped.”

He stopped to take a breath. Farid’s expression was unreadable, he stared steadily at Severus now, his eyes betrayed hurt, sadness, loneliness, loss. This time Severus had to turn away and gulp down a large lump in his throat which threatened to choke him.

“So we came up with this,” he said, taking the parchment on which he and Hermione had worked for most of the morning. “The bond seemed to restrict me from certain options, and the wording seemed to also be restricted by it. Every time I tried to write something that went against its restrictions I would feel a sharp pain in my chest. But, thanks to lots of work, and a good deal of trial and effort, we produced something that is at least workable I think. 

“It is a list of your rights, given to you by me in accordance with the restrictions of the bond and witnessed by Hermione and Draco and Ron. I would have liked to have asked you for your opinion, but I do not think that the bond would have let me. I have tried to allow for a little leeway, however. May we read it together?”

Farid nodded and moved a little closer to Severus on the sofa. Severus could feel the boy’s leg pressed close against his own and felt his warm breath on his hand as he opened the parchment and began to read:

“ _I, Severus Tobias Snape,_

_Do hereby gift my Slave, Harry James Potter, more commonly known as Farid and hitherto referred to as such, the following rights, which are his to enjoy and will, once gifted to him, not be removed by myself for any reason whatsoever as long as we both shall live:_

_1\. Farid has the right to say no to any sexual demands that he does not wish to participate in, whether those demands come from myself or anyone else;_  
2\. Farid has the right to refuse to undertake any task, unless it is a direct order, as the bond itself demands complete obedience to direct orders given by myself, Severus Tobias Snape;  
3\. Farid has the right to refuse to be owned or used by anyone else and can fight to the death against any potential future owner or Master who might wish to take ownership away from Severus Tobias Snape or use him for any reason whatsoever not specified in his hearing by Severus Tobias Snape;  
4\. Farid has the right to all and any monies gifted to him by his parents for his exclusive use;  
5\. Farid has the right to ownership over all possessions gifted by Severus Tobias Snape and by others at the discretion of same;  
6\. Farid has the right to negotiate with Severus Tobias Snape if he is requested to do something that he does not wish to do, or that he is uncertain about, or if he wishes to do something that he has not been given prior permission to do;  
7\. In an emergency situation, Farid is allowed to ignore all previous constraints and orders in order to help others or to ensure his own safety. 

_These rights are granted wholeheartedly and without any restrictions whatsoever._

_Signed,_

_Severus Tobias Snape_

_Witnessed_

_Hermione Jane Granger_  
Draco Lucius Malfoy  
Ronald Bilius Weasley 

_December !4th 1998.”_

He had read the document, that he and Hermione had worked so hard on, slowly and carefully so that Farid could read along, ensuring to point to every word and taking time to sound out the longer words, and as usually happened when they read the paper together, or one of the many letters that they received Farid mouthed the words as his Master read them out.

When he finished reading, he reached under the sofa upon which they sat, and pulled out an intricately carved wooden box. He opened it and handed the key to Farid. “This is your box, Farid,” he said. “It is for your exclusive use. Inside, I have put your wand, photographs of your parents that Remus and Black gave me and, of course, the key to your vault. The key that you hold is the only one to the box, and I promise that will never demand it back from you or seek to look inside with out your permission. 

“These are the rights that I was able to give you Farid and, unless I can one day set you free, it is the best that I can do for now. But I have tried to give you as many options as I could; I don’t want to restrict you more than I have too. I really wish that I could set you free. But aside from that, this is the best option that I can come up with, at least for now anyway.”

When Severus had finished speaking Farid was silent, subdued. He sat staring at the bundle of fur curled in his lap, clutching the parchment that Severus had just handed him. For a moment he caught Severus’ eye, a look of complete astonishment on his face, tears sparkled in his eyes and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again, obviously at a loss for words. Then he looked down at his lap again, still silent, still subdued.

“Do you understand what I have said, Farid?” Severus asked.

“Jes Masteerr.” Farid whispered, and then, looking up intently at Severus, “May I sit and zink about it? Joost for a vhile?”

“If that is what you choose to do, then of course you may,” Severus answered gently. “But I am tired right now, my love, so I am going to bed.” He placed a kiss on Farid’s head and stood and headed toward the bedroom. 

“Masteer?” Farid said.

Severus stopped and turned, “Yes, love?” he answered.

“Ze kitten, I zink I shall call chim Tariq. It mean Morning Star. I zink zat zuit chim, no?”

The boy’s question was tentative; he peered up through his eyelashes as if expecting rejection or refusal.

“I think that is a wonderful name, Farid. I think it will suit him very well.”

The small, thankful smile that Farid shot him at that statement sent Severus to bed feeling as though he were walking on air.


	38. Chapter Thirty Eight

Thirty-Eight

Farid sat for what seemed like hours, thinking.

Tariq was curled on his lap, full of milk and free of worry.

Farid envied the little thing for its innocence.

For the last few days, he had felt frozen, numb. The combination of the rape and the effects of the potion had, he knew, almost destroyed him. But the very worst thing, of all, was the way Master had treated him. Master was the first person that Farid had ever loved, ever trusted. When Master had said those awful things to him, Farid had felt torn apart. When he had thought that his Master wanted him to entertain Nott, Colburn and Johnson, he had wanted to die. Then Master had hit him and called him names and sent him away when he had been hurting and frightened, and a part of Farid _had_ died then and that bit was never coming back, it was lost forever. The unquestioning trust that he had once had for his Master, that was broken beyond repair, he knew.

But he could see that Master was sorry, feel it though the bond. The feelings were strangely muted though, and, for a moment, Farid wondered if the bond were changing yet again. It was not that they did not exist, or that they were not strong any longer, because he could tell that Master did feel them strongly, but those feelings were not overwhelming Farid. Which just left him his own feelings to deal with and weren’t they hard enough?

Tariq mewled in his sleep and nuzzled into Farid. He had never had a pet before, never had a creature that he could look after and love and his heart clenched with affection. He had been astonished when Master had said that it was all right to keep the little scrap, but he should not have been, should he? Because Master had never denied him anything and now he had given Farid so much more; he had a kitten, a small life that was his to care for and, of course, this precious scroll with all the promises that it held. He looked at the parchment that he held tight in his fist. He had yet to put it in the box that Master had given him to keep his special things in from now on and he did not quite know what to think.

Master said he had rights, that he could choose whether to have sex or not, whether he had to do things that he might not wish to do. Of course Master had said some of these things before, but he had never written them down before, like he meant them, like they were true. He could also use his own money to buy things from his vault where his parent’s money was kept; the key was in his possession, in his box from now on. He hadn’t known that he had money and he didn’t know what he would do with it, but it was his, to spend or ignore. Master had said so, Master had said such a lot tonight hadn’t he?

When Master had told him that he could choose whether to have sex, whether to obey suggestions that Master made, such as going to bed, Farid could not quite believe him. So he had tested his Master’s promise by staying here by himself and not going through with Master, as he knew Master wanted him too. He had denied the comfort he knew he would get from snuggling against Master and chosen to sit here instead, in front of the dying fire. It was just a pile of glowing embers and ashes now, so long had he sat deep in thought. It had gotten cold and Farid shivered. 

He had had to test Master’s words, he had to know that he meant what he said, and he had to decide whether or not to forgive and move on. Farid knew that really, the only way he could possibly survive this, was to forgive Master. Because none of it had really been his Master’s fault, and goodness knew he had tried his hardest to make things right again, hadn’t he?

Farid knew how powerful the bond was, and he also knew how hard Master had fought against it, struggled to overcome it. Master had rescued Farid, protected him, defended him, loved him and nobody else had ever cared for him like that before. And when he thought about it, really thought about it, he didn’t want to lose that love. Master was a man after all, like any other, and he had made a mistake, one that he obviously sincerely regretted, one for which he had tried to show his repentance. 

Horrible things had happened to Farid in his life and sometimes, sometimes he felt so overwhelmed by it all, that he thought he would break into a thousand pieces. That he was nothing more right now than shards, than fragments of the person that he should have been. The rape had brought back so many things that he had hoped to forget. He saw them in his dreams, in his nightmares. He had stupidly felt safe here at Hogwarts. He had thought in the last few weeks that he could be normal, that what he had been, his past, would not matter anymore. Because his friends had accepted him and not judged him and Master had loved him and not cared about what he had had to do, either.

But Nott and his friends had not acted like Farid was normal, had they? They had thought that it was okay to treat Farid like a whore and fuck him without thought or consideration for his feelings or pain. But he was not a whore, they were wrong, Master had been wrong, when he had said that too, perhaps Master was right, perhaps it had been the alcohol talking? What had happened to him should never have happened; his childhood had been stolen and he had been repeatedly abused and he had never done anything to deserve it. He had been a child. Younger than the little first years that wandered the halls and looked at him with big eyes and wonderment. Someone should have protected him, made him safe.

He could not undo the past, that was impossible, but he could live with it, try to put it behind him and embrace the good things that he now had in his life.

So he thought to himself; he had a choice: He could let himself fall into the abyss that had opened before him, down into darkness that would steal what was left of his shattered soul, he could let what had happened a few days ago destroy him, or, he could move forward with his friends and with the man he loved, the man who Farid knew, deserved his forgiveness. 

He had fought all his life to survive. He had never given in, even his bleakest moments when he was close to despair. So why should he give in to the darkness now, when he had so much more joy in his life than he had ever had before? There would always be people like Nott, wouldn’t there? People who preyed on the weakness of others, but Master had now given him the means to fight them and he would never let such monsters hurt him, or anyone he loved ever again.

He had been very touched by the outpouring of love and friendship that had come his way. The little kitten that had come into his life with a card that read, _“So you don’t ever feel lonely again, Farid, with love from Hermione.”_ attached to the basket in which he’d arrived. The hugs he gotten from Ron and Draco, and the effort that Sirius Black, whom Farid knew would never understand him, had put into cheering him up. The care that he had been constantly showered with, from nearly everyone, all these people wishing him happiness and offering their love. He, who had always been worth so very little, had somehow attracted so many wonderful people as protectors and friends.

But what moved him, astonished him most of all, was the sheer effort that Master had put into what seemed like a sincere attempt to make amends, indeed, to make things better than they had been before. To offer as much freedom as was possible within the restrictions of the bond, the man, whom Farid loved, and who obviously regretted his actions more than anything, was obviously sorry and whom Farid knew he had to forgive.

He stood and moved over to the wicker basket that Tariq had arrived in and made it a little bigger with a wave of his hand. He transformed the little cushion so that it was softer and fluffier and, popping the sleeping creature inside, he cast a warming charm.

He was whispering to the small animal as he worked, muttering words of affection in Kazakh, telling him that he was safe and loved but too small to be left out of his basket on his own just yet. Words that no-one had whispered to him when he was small and lost and alone. The kitten didn’t wake, but it did snuggle into the soft bedding with a long satisfied purr, instinctively knowing it was safe.

He went and placed the precious scroll in the box, but he did not lock it because he knew his master would not take it or damage anything in it. He ran a finger over the carvings of Griffins and snakes and he slowly got to his feet.

He knew that Severus Snape loved him, more than anyone else had ever done. He could feel it, see it and he didn’t want to turn away from that love. He also knew that the man lying in their bed was almost as needy as the little creature that he had just tucked into its basket for the night. He needed Farid as much as Farid needed him and, realising that to be the case, Farid knew that he could deny him no longer. Somehow, together, they would carry on. Because at least they had each other and they had the love of their friends and, for now at least, Farid thought, that was more than enough. 

Then he stood and squared his shoulders and made his way to the bedroom that he had shared with his Master almost every night since he had arrived at the castle. 

 

Severus was lying in bed, listening to Farid’s movements with every particle of his being. He had thought hard about what to do, tried everything he could think of, to make things better between them. But trust was such a fragile thing; it took a long time to build and yet could be destroyed in the blink of an eye. Tonight had, perhaps, been the first step of many; it might take many months for Farid to accept him again, to forgive him. But Severus had never been a quitter and he was not planning on giving up on his relationship; the best, most loving relationship that he had ever had, not any time soon at least.

Farid had forgiven him that time when they were back with Yusuf, when Severus had watched him beaten and then brutalised him. He had forgiven him the original rapes, which were in themselves brutal and violent, even if, because of the effects of the potion, they were not entirely Severus’ fault. But there was no excuse in Severus’ mind for recent events, no defence that he could make and he had no right to expect Farid to forgive him.

Of course, Farid had remained the dutiful, well-trained slave; he had refused Severus nothing, but Severus missed the look of love that would shine from the boy’s eyes and, despite all he had done to try to make things right, make things better for Farid, he had no expectation that the boy would ever forgive him. The earlier surge of confidence that Severus had felt with Farid’s tiny smile had long since evaporated.

But Farid was quietly moving around the room, getting ready for bed, undressing slowly, preparing for sleep. Leaving him in the sitting room, sitting by the fire whilst he took himself to bed was one of the hardest things that Severus had ever had to do. Farid had looked so lost, so brittle. But it was what the boy had asked, the first conscious choice that he had made since Severus had given him the parchment and Severus well knew that it was a test. As he lay there listening to the quiet rustlings and the whispered movements, Severus prayed to every god that he could think of that he might have passed.

“Masteerr?” The voice was shy, tentative. “Are dyou awake?”

“Yes, love,” he answered, with equal tentativeness. “I am.”

“Masteerr,” the boy said, pressing his cold naked body against Severus’ own, and laying a hand on his chest. “If you are not too tired, Masteer, if it is not too late, vould dyou make love to me? Pleas?”

Severus was torn between sobbing and laughing out loud.

He settled for a sort of strangled squeak.

“Oh, Farid,” he said quietly, respectfully, “nothing would make me happier than making love to you right now.” 

And he leaned over as Farid moved against him and claimed the boy’s lips in a deep and loving kiss. 

He felt the silky ghosting of Farid’s eyelashes close against his cheek, as the boy moved very slightly away and, so quietly that he almost didn’t hear it, Farid whispered.

“Sank dyou Masteerr, sank dyou for everything.”

Then in the half-light of the cosy room, Severus made good his apology in kisses and licks and caresses. And in the semi-darkness Farid expressed his forgiveness, his acceptance of his Master’s apology and his thanks for what Severus had done with answering kisses and caresses echoing Severus’ movements with gestures and endearments of his own. And their lovemaking that night was deeply moving for them both in its intensity, and almost poetic in its tenderness.


	39. Chapter Thirty-Nine

Thankyou kim for betaing and thank you tqa for all your hard work on my behalf this weekend! *g* ~ Lucie

 

Thirty-Nine

In the morning, Farid was still curled against him, heavy and pliant with sleep. Farid’s hair was in total disarray, one hand still rested on Severus’ chest, the other curled in a fist beside Farid’s cheek. Looking like this, all warm and dozy from sleep, he was just about irresistible and Severus couldn’t help himself; he kissed him gently on the head and then rubbed his own cheek against the boy’s dishevelled hair. He closed his eyes and just let himself feel the softness, smell the slight tang of strawberries left behind by the shampoo that Farid used.

When he next looked down, Farid was looking back at him solemnly.

“Hello, little one,” Severus said, “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Farid smiled and nodded.

“Listen Farid,” he began, “I just wanted to say how sorr…” But he got no further, Farid’s hand had come up to Severus face and he placed a finger to his Master’s lips.

“Shh,” he whispered, “It all over Masteerr, all done now. Sshh!”

Severus smiled. That was his line, after all, wasn’t it?

“But Farid…” This time he was silenced by a kiss, a kiss that was so tender and so passionate that Severus felt his cock swelling in answer to it.

Farid started nibbling Severus’ lower lip next, something that was guaranteed to arouse his passion. He groaned and found that the boy’s hand was now trailing back and forth along his stomach, lightly brushing against his hard cock and sending shivers of anticipation coursing through Severus.

Farid released his mouth and ran a little trail of kisses down towards the swollen organ; Severus groaned again, and arched into the kisses. Farid giggled and Severus’ heart swelled with joy at the sound. Then he lost all track of rational thought, as Farid had reached his swollen penis and begun running his tongue gently around the tip. Then the boy took the end of his cock into his mouth and swallowed him deep. Severus yelled, he was writhing, he knew, babbling incoherently as Farid’s clever tongue teased and aroused him even further, repeatedly taking him to the edge of orgasm and back again until Severus couldn’t help himself; he began to beg almost incoherently for release. 

Farid was chuckling now, and the vibrations in his throat finally sent Severus over the edge of control, shouting as it seemed almost like his cock had exploded; he came long and hard and loud.

He felt like a puddle of potion, his limbs were loose and felt like they did not belong to him any longer. 

Farid smirked at his repletion.

“Dyou sorry, I know dis. Dyou are forgive, Masteerr,” he said. “It all over. All done now, jes? I love dyou wery much, ve is good jes?”

Severus was completely stunned; he had thought that it would take weeks, at the very least, for Farid to forgive him. That was, if he ever did. If their roles were reversed, he wondered how easy he would find it to forgive the things that he had done, the boorish, drunken behaviour so reminiscent of his own father. He raised himself with one arm, and gently pushing Farid down on to the bed with the other, he held him lightly in place and studied his face, looking deep into his eyes to judge his sincerity. 

It was true, completely and utterly true. Farid held his gaze steadily, he did not turn away. All that Severus could see in those gorgeous green eyes was sincerity and love, albeit mixed with not a little sadness.

“You mean it, don’t you, my love?” he said. “You have forgiven me?”

Farid did not speak, his eyes glittered and reddened slightly and his lip trembled just a tad. He nodded though, emphatically. Then he swallowed deeply and whispered.

“Jes, Masteerr.”

Severus studied him for a little longer, still drinking in the expression in Farid’s eyes. He felt more love for the boy at this moment than he ever had before. He had been fully prepared to pay his penance for his behaviour, even if it had taken the rest of their lives, but Farid had surprised him once again.

It was Severus’ turn to smirk now. “Then, I suppose that it my turn to thank you, sweetheart, isn’t it?” he said as his smile widened and he went to work on Farid’s body, aiming to return the immense pleasure that he had just experienced.

 

They hadn’t had much time to enjoy a blissful afterglow, though. Farid had left his arms to tend to a loud and anxious kitten, and now they sat at the table enjoying a leisurely breakfast. Today was Saturday and Severus had no classes, so there was no need to rush anywhere and Severus was keen to just enjoy Farid’s company.

Despite their earlier lovemaking, and the obvious accord between them, Farid was still subdued, his expression still sad. He might have forgiven Severus, but that did not mean that he was somehow magically all better, he reminded himself. He wasn’t all over his experiences just like that. In fact, considering what Farid had been through in the last few weeks and months, not to mention all the years beforehand, it was a miracle that the boy was not a gibbering wreck.

Farid was eating a croissant and bravely trying to make conversation when Tariq pounced on his bare toe and bit it with his sharp little teeth. Farid squealed and Severus could not help himself, he laughed.

“That’s what you get for coming to the breakfast table with no shoes on, my love,” he said somewhat smugly. But his laughter quickly turned to a yelp of pain of his own, as the kitten decided to use Severus’ leg to climb up, making his way to the breakfast table.

Farid dissolved into giggles, he laughed and he laughed and Severus found his own lips twitching too. 

It was truly wonderful to see the boy laughing, and Severus silently blessed Hermione for her timely gift, even as he prised tiny claws from his shin and placed the kitten on the floor, quickly transforming a piece of bread into a little yellow ball which he rolled across the floor for the kitten to pursue. The kitten could not get lost, since Farid had conjured a ward which allowed Severus and himself to come and go as they pleased, but restricted the kitten. Severus did not even want to think about how and where Farid had learned about such things.

Then Mercury, Severus’ Tawny owl, arrived, seemingly laden with post. Severus removed the letters and piled them in front of him, handing Mercury a nice fatty piece of bacon and gently stroking the bird’s feathers. Then the owl took to the wing, eying Tariq surreptitiously as he headed back to the Owlery.

Severus sorted through the pile. There were several business letters, and one from photographer Adrian Barnard. Probably just his usual gossipy note, since he had already sent Farid a get well note and a whole pile of Chocolate Toads (which were the American version of Chocolate Frogs). This last batch had contained some great cards for his Chocolate Toad collection - he now had quite a number of famous American Wizards including P.T. Barnum and Harry Houdini, but he was still looking out for L Frank Baum and Geronimo.

There was also a letter from Dumbledore. 

He opened it carefully and saw Farid’s eyes widen with worry as Severus let out a deep sigh.

The boy was playing with the kitten; he had been rolling the ball around with his foot, just managing to lift his toes out of reach each time Tariq pounced.

Severus debated with himself for a moment or two, whether he would tell Farid what the letter was about. But hadn’t he told the boy, just last night, that he would allow him to discuss things with him? He couldn’t just make decisions for Farid anymore without consulting him first. He had to tell him what Dumbledore had said, so he took a deep breath, told Farid that a letter had arrived about him, and began to read it aloud.

By the time he had finished, he almost regretted his decision. Farid was trembling again, his eyes were haunted. 

A final decision had been made about the boys who had assaulted Farid and Draco. They were indeed to be expelled, and an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot had decided furthermore, that they would all be sent to Azkaban. Colburn and Johnson would each do five years in prison, but Nott, the instigator, would do ten.

Farid sat very still; his breathing had increased rapidly whilst the letter was being read, and Severus sensed that he was barely controlling his panic. But slowly, very slowly, Farid got himself under control once more and then turned wide eyes to Severus.

“Masteerr, cwhen zey leave, may I go see zem?”

Severus was shocked. This was the very last thing that he expected Farid to say. He was very unsure that the boy was ready to face his attackers and certainly, certainly he could not be ready yet? 

But Farid had set his jaw; he had a very determined look on his face. “Pleas Masteerr,” he said, “Never before, chave I chad chance to see men who rape me. Before, it was okay. I vant to look into zer eyes, I vant to tell zem vhat zey chave done.”

Severus said nothing, but he did nod grimly.

“I will come with you, Farid,” he said. “You shall not have to face them alone.”

The walk to the entrance hall felt like it was a thousand miles long. Severus walked beside his silent boy, watching the resolve that stiffened his shoulders, the slight tremor in his hands and his lower lip. He wanted to crush him in his arms, make it all better, make it all go away. But he had to see this as a first step. Confronting his abusers had been Farid’s decision and Severus, if he loved him, if he wanted him to grow, had to support him, so he did.

They stood by the doorway in the shadows. Severus thought that Farid could hardly be seen; his head was down and he was muttering something to himself, trying desperately, Severus knew, to steady his nerves.

They were supposed to be leaving at ten o’clock, the boys. That time had been chosen especially, so that the majority of students would be away from the entrance hall. Breakfast was well over by then and children would be in their dorms or outside on a nice day. Nott, Colburn and Johnson had been well hexed on their way back to the Room of Requirement the previous day, despite the presence of the aurors, so Albus had said in his letter. This time, he was taking no chances; the boys were being spirited away before anyone really noticed. 

But they were late. There was no sign of them yet. Every so often, a group of children would walk past and say hello to Farid, and ask him how he was, and he would smile and tell them shyly that he was fine. Soon though, it was much quieter, and Albus appeared from the direction of his office with four aurors and the boys in tow. 

Farid was shaking now; they had had to wait so long. Severus was sure that the boy would give up a couple of times, but he had not, and now, when he saw the party for which they had been waiting approach, he took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself and stepped forward into the light.

Albus stopped he looked completely nonplussed.

“Erm, Severus, my boy, and Farid too. What are you both doing here?” His eyes locked with Severus’; they were eloquent in their astonishment, their disapproval. Albus did not have to say a word for Severus to be able to know what Albus was asking, ‘Should you be here, Severus? What’s going on?’

But it was Farid who spoke. “I vanted to come, I vanted to see zem, Alboos Greybeard,” he said. “I vanted to ask zem vhy zey did it. I vill not be a wictim any more!”

The aurors watched him carefully as he walked towards the boys. He seemed so small, so fragile, amongst the others. But, like that day long ago, when Farid had first been sorted, he showed his Gryffindor bravery and challenged the ones who had hurt him.

He walked right up to them and peered into their face one by one. Colburn could not meet his eyes, but kept his own gaze locked on the floor in front of him.

Johnson started to cry. He was wringing his hands. “I’m sorry, Farid,” he mumbled, “so sorry.” And Farid answered him, with something that could have been a curse, but instead was a very short absolution, “I know, I can see, it okay now.” He had reached out to this boy and placed a hand on his arm. The boy seemed energised; he stood up straighter and looked directly at Farid, “One day I will make it up to you,” he said. “I promise.”

But Nott was defiant; his eyes held only hatred for Severus’ boy, and he was the one for whom Farid seemed to hold the most contempt.

“Vhy did dyou do it, Nott?” he asked. “Vhy did dyou ruin dour life and zers?”

“Fuck off, you little whore,” Nott hissed. “I should have hurt you more, I should have fucking killed you.” Then he launched into a litany of abuse. One of the aurors stepped forward, seemingly in an attempt to stop him, but Farid turned his dark green eyes on the man and shook his head, just once.

Nott had started threatening Farid now, but the abuse was cut short before it really began. Farid let loose his power; he let it dance around him, crackling in the air, silencing Nott, and amazing every one else with the amount of sheer raw power that he had available to him. The aurors all took a step backwards with stunned looks on their faces, but Farid merely drew back his hand and smacked Nott hard across the face.

The sound of the slap echoed around the Hall, but Farid’s next words were barely audible to anyone who was not standing closeby.

“I feel sorry for dyou. Dyou have thrown avay dour future for a qvick fuck. I hope it vas vorth it! Vhen dyou sit in dour cell for ze next ten years, remember zat I vill be living my life wiz people who love me. Vhile dyou rot! And if dyou ever come near me or ze people zat I love ever again, I vill kill dyou, I vill tear dyou apart viz my bare hands.”

The temperature seemed to drop significantly when Farid spoke. Nott appeared to be trying to reply, but he could not seem to open his mouth. Farid stared at him a moment longer and then he turned and strode back to Severus with his head held high.

Severus had a lump in his throat. He was so very, very proud of his boy, but he said nothing. He just took Farid’s hand and together they watched as the boys were led away, all of them looking rather fearfully at Severus and Farid as they passed.

Farid waited until they got back to their rooms before he broke down. He didn’t cry, he just started to tremble violently and, unable to control himself, he sank to his knees before the fire. Severus knelt beside him and held him close, kissing him gently on the head from time to time and rubbing idle circles on his back in an effort to comfort him. Slowly, oh so slowly, the trembling stopped, but they still sat entwined together for a long time afterwards. Catharsis never came easily did it? Neither of them spoke; after all there was nothing right then left to say.


	40. Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty

 

Thanks kim and tqa for all your support and help this weekend.

Severus had just finished potions class with the Ravenclaw third years and he could not wait to get back to his rooms. He was longing for a cup of his favourite Earl Grey tea and a foot massage before the fire. Farid had initiated massages just a week or so earlier. Hermione had mentioned them and he had remembered that he used to do this for the men who came to Yusuf’s stronghold. He had offered to do it for his Master and it soon became one of the highlights of the day for Severus. Farid was incredibly skilled; Severus would take a hot bath first and then Farid would soothe away the aches and pains of living in a cold drafty castle. 

Farid was teaching Severus to repay the favour for the times when Farid felt stiff and sore after Quidditch or intensive defence training, but Severus well knew that he had nowhere near Farid’s talent and was, instead, all fingers and thumbs. 

Christmas had come and gone, 5 long weeks ago; weeks when the Scottish weather had done its worst and lashed Hogwarts with storms and kept the days short with black skies and driving rain. But, for Severus, things seemed brighter all the time.

Slowly but surely, Farid seemed to be getting better, stronger. Each day he laughed a little more, each day his eyes seemed a little less sad. Severus was not sure what the turning point had been. Whether it was the contract that Severus had given to Farid that made the difference, he wasn’t sure; whatever it was, it certainly seemed to allow Farid to be more forthright in his views! Perhaps it had been his confrontation of the boys who had raped him that made Farid feel more at ease, more able to make his own decisions. Perhaps it had been the arrival of Tariq, who was growing larger and more adventurous by the day and who kept them on their toes with his antics and his charm.

Then again, perhaps it had been Christmas. It was Farid’s first Christmas and he had woken each day in the week beforehand wide-eyed with wonderment. He had followed Hagrid around when the half-giant had brought in the Christmas trees, asking questions all the while. He had gone shopping with Hermione, clutching his vault key as if unsure what to do with it. Hermione had told him that there was a branch of Gringotts in Hogsmeade, and that any funds that Farid needed could be instantly transferred. 

Severus would have liked to go with him, but he wanted Farid to know that he would not go back on his word. He had given Farid his own money and wanted no say on how the boy was to spend it. But he knew that Farid and Hermione had spent several of their reading lessons writing gift lists, one of which he had seen Farid secrete in his special box.

Then they had both spent an evening wrapping their presents for friends and writing cards. The huge sitting-room mantelpiece was more laden with seasonal well-wishes than Severus could ever remember and he mused over the miracle that had brought, not just Farid, but so much friendship and support into, what had previously been, a cold and rather pointless existence.

Farid had been happy enough though, to wave his friends off the day before Christmas Eve. Hardly anyone had stayed this year and Severus could not help rejoicing in the fact that, for much of the time, it was to be just him and Farid. So they had lots of sex, and cuddled in front of the fire, and went for long walks in the snow that fell heavily on Christmas Eve, almost as if someone had specially arranged it for Farid’s benefit. 

Farid loved the snow. Yusuf had allowed him to play in it a few times when he was a child, since it had reminded him of his own childhood. Severus found himself building a snowman with his slave and three Hufflepuff first years and then he was buried under an enthusiastic volley of snowballs. He even made a snow angel, but only after swearing them all to secrecy first. The Hufflepuffs had watched their Professor with a certain amount of terror as he lay back against a snow bank and waved his arms back and forth to make the wing shape, but Farid had laughed and laughed.

But was Christmas day itself, that had really made things special for Severus. He had showered the boy with gifts, but he had almost seemed to draw more pleasure from giving than receiving. After all, he had never in his life before, been able to give a gift to anyone. Farid had bought presents for everyone he could think of, but for Severus there were loads of presents, all carefully wrapped in bright paper. The one that meant the most to him had been given last; it was a bottle of his favourite Talisker Whiskey, nestled in straw in a wooden box. It was tagged as being from Farid and the boy had carefully written four words in his very best hand writing: _I trust you, Master_. Severus had been speechless at the gift and had swept Farid into the bedroom to say thank you properly, leaving Tariq, carefully warded, playing amongst the paper and baubles.

Farid had loved Christmas dinner, laughed uproariously at the Christmas crackers, and spent ages inspecting the Christmassy images that chased each other around Albus’ gown. Sirius Black was there for the holidays too, and Severus was proud of himself when he stood watching Farid hug the animagus, thanking him for the Quidditch gloves that he had been given, and felt not even a pang of jealousy.

Day by day, bit-by-bit, the hold that the bond had on him seemed to be loosening and Severus, truly for the first time since Farid had come into his life, started to feel in control. 

When the others had returned after the break, Severus had had to become used to seeing less of Farid again, since his defence training had been stepped up and he spent more time with Remus. Then, when Farid was flying, or off somewhere with his friends, they would sit together and watch the world go by at Remus’ window and talk about Farid’s latest accomplishments like a couple of proud old grannies. 

He and Farid spent hours talking too. Severus told the boy things about himself that he had never told anyone else and Farid listened and never criticised and seemed to strive only to understand Severus more.

Severus also began to teach Farid Occlumency, advanced potion making and how to defemd against some of the very darkest curses. The strength of Farid’s magic, and his control of it seemed to grow on an almost daily basis. The boy was also the strongest Occlumens that he had ever met. He supposed that he had had to learn this skill in order to protect his secrets, but Farid even managed to keep Severus out of his mind, when this should not have been possible because of the strength of the bond.

Sometimes the boy still had panic attacks. Only a few days earlier, Lavender Brown had accidentally dropped a hairbrush from her bag and Farid had frozen at the sight of it until Hermione had vanished it away and brought Farid to Severus for comfort and support. The brush had caused a flashback and, when Farid had told him how his rapists had beaten him with a brush such as Lavender owned and had then shoved it inside him, Severus had had to use every ounce of control not to apparate directly to Azkaban and tear Nott’s arms off. It would do Farid no good if Severus ended up sharing a cell with his slave’s one time attackers. They would pay, those boys; he swore to himself that they would. But Severus was a Slytherin; he would wait for his revenge. They would suffer long and hard at his hands one day soon.

But at least the potion that they had dosed him with had had no permanent long term effect. Farid had suffered panic attacks, flashbacks and nightmares, but lately they were fewer all the time and the bright, shining personality that had first drawn Severus to Farid seemed ever more apparent.

Finally, he reached the last corridor before home; but, as he turned the corner, he could hear the most awful, tuneless, thumping noise. What in Merlin’s name was going on, he thought to himself, was Farid okay? He sped up and rushed to his rooms in case there was a problem, something he had to sort out. As he got closer he could hear laughing and giggling but only just. Above the sound of merriment, there was still this dreadful pounding cacophony. It didn’t sound like anyone was in pain or in danger, but he still wanted to know what was going on. So he crept closer to find out what the cause of such hilarity might be. But, as he opened the door to his rooms, the sight that met him caused him to step back in amazement.

Farid was dancing. 

He was wearing his green silk pyjama bottoms which were skimming his hips, he was smiling at Seamus who was dancing alongside him, Farid’s arms were held high above his head showing the flat abdominal muscles that he had gained with months of flying and his nipple rings glinted in the diffused light. He was swaying his hips in time to the music, and Merlin could he move! Severus thought that Farid was completely delectable and utterly sexy. Utterly forgetting about his long awaited massage, Severus leaned back against the door jamb and watched. 

Hermione and Ron danced around each other too, but in a rather more ungainly fashion and, in the background, Severus could see Luna, Pansy, Draco, Blaise, and a number of others bouncing about with vigour. Farid looked so beautiful and so very graceful that Severus felt a lump forming in his throat, but then Farid saw him and his smile widened.

Severus put on a mock glare. “What’s going on?” he asked as fiercely as he could manage. But Farid just came over to him and took Severus’ larger hands in his own slim ones. “Cwe are dancing Masteerr, come dance wiz oos!” 

“And what exactly are you dancing to?” Severus asked, somewhat scathingly.

“Oh come on, sir,” Seamus said, “even you must recognise Britpop; you know sir, _pop music_. This is Blur.” Severus’ eyebrows rose almost to his hairline, “I am sorry, Mr Finnegan, but what exactly is blurred?”

As he was speaking, Farid had gently manoeuvred Severus into the middle of the room. The youngsters had pushed back the sofa and rolled up the carpet, just like young people did the world over and had done for generations; they were dancing, just for the joy of it. 

And Farid was one of them; he was dancing with joy too.

His eyes were dancing also, alight with fun and mischief. Oh my darling, Severus thought to himself, you are back, my love. At last!

Farid wrapped his arms around Severus’ waist, resting them on his hips, placed his hands on his bottom and pulled Severus close so that he could gyrate his hips against Severus’ own. The music had slowed now, so Farid lowered his head until it rested on Severus’ chest. As they danced, Severus caught sight of some of the others watching him, but still they moved together, him and Farid, their hips mirroring each other, their feet following automatically. When one song finished they continued dancing to another and another. Finally, Severus looked up only to see himself being watched by Pansy.

“Something wrong, Miss Parkinson?” he asked.

“You are dancing, sir. I didn’t know that you could dance.” Severus grinned smugly.

“Oh indubitably, Miss Parkinson, I am a very good dancer!” He twirled round and then swung Farid in a dip, the boy squealed in delight. The next song was faster but Severus kept pace, he really did have rhythm, always had done. 

The students were clapping at his and Farid’s performance now, because Farid seemed able to anticipate and echo Severus’ moves and together they danced well; in fact, they danced beautifully. The band had changed now, from Blur to Oasis, and despite his protesting, Severus had at least heard of the Gallagher brothers’ music. This song was particularly apt, he thought, Farid was his _Wonderwall_ and always would be.

Slowly the others stopped dancing and instead just watched Severus and Farid, the music had sped up once again and Severus twirled. Farid let out another squeal of joy as Severus twirled him too, perhaps a little fast so that he stumbled slightly and Severus caught him. Then, all at once, Farid threw back his head and began to laugh; he was enjoying himself. Just for now, he was not thinking about the past or the future; he was doing what he had always been so good at, living for the moment. 

The music stopped and Farid’s friends began to applaud. Farid turned to him and clapped too and all the time he was laughing. Severus made a mock bow, waving his arm about in a theatrical flourish, making all of them laugh just a little bit harder. Farid had been to hell and back many times in his life and yet he had survived. He was not undamaged by what had happened to him but he was living with it. Severus thought that there would be many days ahead when Farid would not cope well with life, but Farid was a survivor. He had chosen life and did not seem to be planning on giving up just yet. So, in celebration of this, he had decided to spend time with his friends and dance and laugh and Severus knew, just at that moment, that the music of Farid’s joy at being alive was the very best sound in all the world.


	41. Chapter Forty One

A/N - I am sorry but this chapter does have a cliff hanger ending, but things are getting a bit exciting now and I am afraid that there are several twists and turns ahead. I will try to have 3 chapters up next weekend, which should get you past the worst bits! So if you can't bear to read cliffies you might want to wait until this time next week.

 

 

Chapter Forty-One

The winter had finally ceased its hold on the countryside. All at once, the signs of spring were everywhere. The whin bushes were laden with yellow flowers and Severus took Farid with him to the moorland behind the castle, to help him help him gather some; they were useful as potions ingredients, after all. They had filled two big baskets between them - not an easy task as the gorse was also laden with sharp needle-length thorns, which tore at unsuspecting fingers and other body parts.

Severus watched as Farid’s final crop filled the second basket to the brim. The boy deserved a rest, Severus thought. He had worked so hard over the past few months, he trained unrelentingly every day, he studied hard too, and was beginning to catch up with his peers in several areas. His reading had come on, beyond all recognition, and there were few documents now that he could not decipher given enough time and some support.

His magic was infinitely more powerful than any of his fellow students; indeed, he seemed more powerful than anyone else in the castle. He now duelled two or three adults at a time, and had not been defeated for months. He loved duelling too; he came alive when he thrashed them, his eyes dancing with mirth as they failed to breach his shields or undo his hexes.

He had made such progress, he was so much more confident than the acquiescent slave that Severus had rescued, so much more at ease than the trembling boy who had been raped just five months ago. He had come through so much, this wonderful young man and sometimes Severus loved him so deeply, with such a fierce devotion, that he thought his heart would burst open.

Each day now, Farid seemed to progress in yet another unexpected area; only yesterday, they had had a row - their first ever - and Severus had seen evidence of Farid’s passion in yet another arena of his life. They had been casting hexes at one another, but these days Farid did not give this his all, he held back, protected his opponents from harm and Severus had shouted at him, told him to stop ‘pussy-footing around and being pathetic, and get on with it.’

Farid had turned around; his eyes alight with passion, with fury. He had told Severus that he had to be careful; he would not be made to harm his Master or his friends. He had clenched his fists, stomped his foot and his face had been contorted with anger, which had escalated when Severus had laughed.

It was only when Severus pointed out that he had lost his temper, had shouted at his Master that Farid’s anger had dissipated and then he had collapsed in horror. But Severus had hugged him, had swung him around, and kissed him fiercely, had told him how proud he was and had pointed out that he was delighted that Farid _could_ be angry with him, because it meant that perhaps the bond was at last allowing them more freedom. This had sent Hermione scuttling off to the library to follow up a reference that she had read about months ago, but as yet she had not returned with her findings.

Now Severus tugged at Farid’s hand and pulled him down beside him on the grass, it was growing rapidly in the temperate weather and would need to be mown soon. But right now Severus had spread out a picnic rug and opened the basket that they had brought with them, stuffed with all kinds of goodies. 

“It is time for lunch, my own,” he said before claiming Farid’s mouth in a deep and passionate kiss, releasing him momentarily, smiling down at the gorgeous creature who lay panting on the rug beneath him.

“I would like an appetiser,” he grinned, “and you, my dear Farid, are it!”

Farid giggled and pulled Severus down to return the kiss. Seconds later, the boy was completely naked and Severus was even more turned on. 

Farid’s body was lithe and beautiful, and having him here, ready and willing and completely at ease, stirred Severus enormously. Farid still held no shame in his body; he had spent so much of his life naked, had been told so often that his form was pleasing that he did not care who saw him unclothed, and even the incident with Nott and his cronies had done nothing to alter this.

For Severus, even though he had worked so hard to give Farid freedom and autonomy, the willing, pliable reality of an aroused Farid fed into all his fantasies and fuelled his desire. So, whilst the spring sun warmed them and the birds sang all around, he feasted on the body of his willing lover.

Licking and nibbling at the boy’s nipple rings always sent Farid almost mad with desire; these were the only piercings that Farid retained. Lately they had been experimenting with other toys - feathers, a suede flogger, an assortment of plugs - but Severus had promised that he would never tie Farid down, or gag or blindfold him. Occasionally though, like now for example, Severus would pin Farid’s hands above his head with his own larger ones and play with Farid’s body with his lips and his tongue and his teeth. Farid, in his turn, would arch into Severus’ ministrations and squeal and moan and writhe, further arousing Severus with all the sweet sounds that he made.

Severus reached over into the baskets of whin flowers and grabbed a handful, scattering them along Farid’s torso, rubbing the buttery yellow petals into Farid’s creamy skin causing the boy to writhe even more. He sat back on his heels for a moment to enjoy the picture of wantonness that Farid presented, lying in the spring sunshine on a blue tartan rug, completely naked and covered in yellow flowers. Severus grinned he took more blooms by the handful and sprinkled them around Farid’s groin and along his belly; then, after enjoying the view for a moment longer, he ran his hands along Farid’s thighs, easily lifting his bottom so that he could place a pillow underneath him. Slowly, so slowly, he found Farid’s anus and started to gently prepare him, using soft creamy butter as a lubricant, mixing it with yet more of the freshly gathered flowers. Farid was whimpering with need now, so Severus placed himself so that he could enter him with no more ado. 

The boy was so hot, so tight and yet so willing. He had kept his hands where Severus had placed them; even after all these months together he was often reluctant to move from a position that Severus had placed him in and Severus would often have to whisper to him that he would like to be touched by Farid. But today, he knelt up and just watched Farid’s abandonment to sensation. He rubbed the flowers into Farid’s skin again, releasing the scent of lemons into the air and watched the boy arch and squirm under his caresses. Farid’s cock, in its nest of yellow blooms, was hard and weeping and, as Severus felt himself reaching climax, he began to stroke Farid too, rubbing more petals into the flesh of Farid’s cock.

Finally, as Farid squirmed and murmured under his breath, losing himself in Kazakh as he often did when he reached such a state of blissfulness, Severus felt the pressure building until he came hard, pumping his seed into Farid, seconds later Farid came too, screaming his completion as he fisted the grass above his head. 

Later, when they were eating, Severus explained the aphrodisiacal qualities of gorse flowers to his satiated lover. “The gorse is known as the ‘kissing bush,’” Severus told him. “Even the Muggles call it that. It is said, that when the whin is in flower, then lovers can kiss. However the whin is rumoured to always be in flower, so lovers can always kiss when they find it! Rubbed into the skin, activated by the body’s own fluids, it certainly adds a certain frisson to making love.”

Farid had then insisted that he refill the, by now, half empty basket and did so, still completely naked. By the time he had finished however, Severus had become so aroused watching a deliciously bare Farid gracefully dodge the sharp thorns, that they had made love all over again, Severus laving his tongue over all the little patches of colour left behind on Farid’s skin by the natural dye in the flower petals, found his tongue tingling with the natural potion.

It had been mid afternoon when they had finally separated; Farid for duelling practice, wearing only a pair of simple tracksuit bottoms that Severus had summoned for him and looking, to Severus’ eyes at least, completely delectable. Severus had gone to his lab to distil the flowers that they had collected for use in a number of different potions and then on to the dungeons for several hours of teaching.

And now it was teatime and Severus was in the Great Hall, deep in thought. He had just spoken to Remus, who had spent the afternoon duelling with Farid. His boy was in the shower but would be along shortly; he would join his classmates from Gryffindor and they would eat and talk and chatter and it would be at least another hour before they could be alone together. Normally, Severus had no problem with this - he enjoyed watching Farid interact with his friends - but today, he really did not want to be here, he wanted to be alone with Farid and he did not want to wait at all. 

It was Hermione’s fault that he had become so distracted. She had caught up with him outside his classroom, just after he had finished teaching the 3rd year Hufflepuffs.

“Please, Professor,” she had said, “I have found it, at last.” Her eyes had been shining and Severus had not needed to ask just what it was that Hermione had found, because he had known that she would finally succeed in her quest from the moment she had gone haring off to the library just a day or two ago. Hermione had discovered how to overcome the bond.

The ridiculous thing was how simple it would be. That, because of Severus’ changes - the bill of rights that he had given Farid, the breaking down of Farid’s training, all the little freedoms that Severus had initiated - because of that, according to Hermione, they were already halfway there. She had found the answer in an obscure text about the Roman orator Marcus Tullius Cicero*. Cicero had owned a slave, one who had been very special to him, and when Cicero had been gravely ill, afraid that he was dying, he had freed his favourite slave, worried that his own death would also cause the death of the young man of whom he was so fond. 

Slavery was common in Roman times, but Cicero was a wizard and Tiro, his slave, showed a magical aptitude from a young age, even though he were both slave and muggleborn. Cicero had bonded the boy to him and later freed him simply _because he had wished him to be free_.

Many of Cicero’s famous texts were well known; Hermione had told Severus that even Muggles had heard of the great Republican and his works. But few knew that he, or indeed Tiro, were wizards, and fewer still knew about the bond between them. Hermione had finally found the reference to the dissolving of the bond in one of the many volumes of Cicero’s letters to friends, this particular one being to a long-standing correspondent called Atticus.

Severus had unwittingly, instinctively, repeated the actions that Cicero had taken, in making a favourite, a companion, of a bright, able slave so very many years before. In doing so, in repeating Cicero’s actions, he had almost completely negated the insidious rule of the bond.

This had been why Severus had felt so much more in control, why Farid had gained more autonomy and had been able to grow and develop as a person, rather than a cipher for his Master’s will. 

Hermione had thought that, because some of Cicero’s letters had fallen into obscurity, the passage about how Tiro was freed, and exactly how closely he had been bonded to his master, had also been overlooked; and because few masters since had shown the same enlightenment that Cicero had, very few, if any, magically bonded slaves had been granted their freedom in the same way and of these few, none had been recorded. Therefore, the simple act of granting freedom by merely wishing for it had been long forgotten and generations of wizards had believed that such bonds were immutable and indestructible.

Severus felt conflicted: he was delighted at the news - he did still want Farid to be free, he truly did - but once he was free would he leave Severus? He thought not, Tiro had not left Cicero’s side after all, and Severus thought of the loving looks that Farid gave him, the way he would touch his Master constantly, lovingly as if needing to check that Severus were still there. No, he really did have no true worries on that score. He knew that Farid loved him and tonight, after tea was over, Severus would finally free his beloved slave in the way that Cicero had more than 2000 years before.

He smiled to himself, picturing Farid’s face when he heard the news; he would have to reassure the boy that he would never leave him, never abandon him. He held up his glass to Hermione when he caught her eye in a simple gesture of thanks.

Then, all of a sudden, Severus felt cold, as if someone had walked on his grave. He shivered; the temperature in the Great Hall had plummeted without warning. He could see his breath escaping in little clouds in front of him, and then, then things seemed to happen rapidly, explosively and yet as if in slow motion. The doors of the hall flew open and Farid came charging through. He too, seemed to be moving in slow motion. He wore nothing but the pair of plain black tracksuit bottoms that Severus had summoned for him earlier; he was dripping wet, he had obviously come straight from the shower and his hair flowed free. 

Of late Farid had often seemed demure, always immaculate in uniform, hair neatly tied behind him usually in a single plait. But now it flowed around him, like a dark untamed river. He was running, his wand was in his hand and his face, his face was covered in blood. It was smeared on his cheeks and his forehead, it was in his hair. It resembled the war paint that the great wizard Chief Seattle wore in Farid’s favourite Chocolate Toad card. He looked wild, savage, powerful, as he ran, purposely, unrelentingly towards his Master. 

Severus gasped but any sound that he made was drowned out by a chorus of screams from the children gathered around the dining tables. They were looking up, pointing at the enchanted ceiling in sheer unmitigated terror.

Severus tore his eyes from Farid and looked up too. What he saw above him almost caused the blood to freeze in his veins: the sky was barely visible, there were no clouds, no blue sky fading to dusk; instead it was darkening with something else - high up, coming nearer all the time, the sky swarmed with hundreds of dementors.

They were circling getting ever lower, ever closer to the school.

But Farid had reached Severus’ side and he whirled around, the ends of the wet tendrils of hair slapped against Severus’ face and robe as Farid turned rapidly, so close to his Master. The boy stopped and spread his arms wide he threw back his head and shouted with perfect diction, “Expecto Patronum!” The words cut through the screams of terror, they echoed around the hall. Something huge and white burst from the end of his wand. It glowed; it seemed to pulsate with light. It was stunningly beautiful. 

“It’s a swan!” It was one of the Ravenclaw’s who shouted and pointed up as the huge bird made its progress towards the army of dementors.

Severus’ jaw dropped; he could simply not believe what had just happened to be true. 

When he had been at school, he had followed the Marauders around for most of a year. They had a secret, this he had known, one that had concerned Lupin, and finally at the end of the year he had found out what it was, Lupin’s lycanthropy. But somewhere along the way he had also found out about the Marauders’ animagus abilities and he had determined that he too would become an animagus. It took him most of the following term, but in the end he made it, he became an animagus too: he became a swan.

But all these years he had told no-one. Severus had been such an unprepossessing child; he could not have bourn the taunts, the laughter about how an ugly ducking such as himself had ever become a swan. A raven, some sort of raptor, that would have been acceptable, both to his classmates and later in his role as a spy. But a swan? It wasn’t exactly an un-noticeable form after all; it had been too flamboyant, too conspicuous for Severus, so he had almost buried the memory that he had ever managed such a feat. He had mentioned it to no-one and had not even thought about himself for years. But Farid must have known, his Patronus was Severus’ secret animal and it was truly magnificent. 

Awed, and somewhat comforted, he watched it fly around the enchanted ceiling, huge wings flapping gently; the form that nobody but himself knew existed, yet another connection between himself and Farid. He watched the glorious creature drift up through the glass dome of the roof as if the barrier did not exist and he continued to watch it as it plunged into the dementors and chased them away. Extending its long neck, charging at them, snapping at them with his sharp bill, they were dissipating like morning mist, the scariest, most abominable creatures in wizarding life were being dissolved by Farid with ease. 

But the doors had burst open again. This time the screams were louder and more prolonged, the terror even more apparent. 

Striding into the Great Hall as if he had already won, as if the school belonged to him was Tom Marvolo Riddle, young of countenance, strikingly handsome, evil personified. Lord Voldemort had arrived.

Severus almost stopped breathing. His heart clenched with fear. But in front of Severus Farid had turned to face the intruder; he looked calm, relaxed, completely unperturbed. 

His chest was rising and falling still with the effort that it must have cost him to run here from the dungeons. Water droplets gleamed on his chest, his pectoral muscles were beautifully defined, his abdominal muscles firm, his hair flowed over his shoulders and down his back and his features were only slightly blurred by the blood that still poured from the scar which had burst open on his forehead. His emerald eyes flashed with passion and with power, he looked unafraid, otherworldly, unearthly. 

With his head to one side, a small smile playing on his lips, Farid watched, without blinking an eye, as the darkest wizard to blight the world for centuries made his progress toward them, followed by a stream of Death Eaters. He stood guard in front of Severus; much smaller than his Master but infinitely more powerful than anyone else in the room. Unflinchingly, steadily he waited, making Voldemort come to him.

The Dark Lord stopped just in front of them.

“So this is the famous Harry Potter, is it?” he sneered. “This is no powerful wizard I see before me; this some half-naked child playing at being grown up. Move aside little boy, let me take care of my traitor and then, if you are good, I might keep you alive, to be _my_ little slave!”

“I don’t zink so, Woldemort. I don’t zink dyou have ze power,” Farid said calmly. “I have vaited long for zis. Dyou vant him? Dyou vant ze school? Zen I zink first dyou moost go through me.”

The air crackled with power, with magic. Voldemort scowled and drew his wand. But Severus could see the boy’s face and it shocked him more than anything he had yet seen. 

Farid was smiling even more widely and his eyes were alight with elation. His boy, his sweet, compliant Farid, was looking forward to the battle ahead; the boy had grown up, he was no longer a child and he was more than ready to fight to defend Severus, to defend them all from evil.

 

 

* Marcus Tullius Cicero did exist; as did Tiro; their story is true, don’t know if they were really wizards, though!

Gorse is more commonly known as "whin" and it is indeed known as the 'kissing bush'


	42. Chapter Forty-Two

Thank you Kim and TQA for being so brilliant!

 

Chapter Forty-Two

Farid knew he was ready for this fight - he gloried in it, in fact. Once this evil thing had been destroyed, Farid would be able to get on with his life; he liked his life now, his friends, his Master. Finally, Farid had a future, something he would never have believed as a small child. All those years when he had merely existed, had been too afraid to think of what might come; now he had so much, so many riches and this vile monster was all that stood in his way.

Farid was not naïve enough to think that Voldemort was responsible for all the evil in the world. But he had certainly played his part in the things that had happened to Farid; when he had made the decision to kill James and Lily Potter, he had condemned their son to years of torment and abuse.

Voldemort seemed to loom over him, but that did not bother Farid, he was used to people being taller than him. The Dark Lord believed that he had an advantage because he thought that he could not be killed. He had no idea, Farid knew, that his precious horcruxes had already been destroyed. There was just one left: the snake; and here it came, faithfully following its master. Farid might have felt sorry for it had he not been able to see the evil radiating from every pore of the scaly patterned skin.

He smiled.

Voldemort was about to say something he opened his mouth to speak, but Farid petrified him. He knew he only had seconds before his opponent released himself, but that was enough; it was more than enough for what he wanted to do.

“Come to me, sssnake,” he said. He knew now that he was speaking a different language - he was speaking parseltongue. Professor Lupin had told him this. The first time that he had used it was when he had banished Master’s brand; he hadn’t known then what it was, but he was so much more fluent now in the strange language. Professor Lupin had told him to keep this talent to himself, to tell no one that did not already know; he had said that the general population mistrusted parselmouths. Sure enough, he heard the gasps that emanated from many of the on-lookers gathered around him when he spoke. 

But Professor Lupin had told Farid that it was fine to be a parselmouth. That it was a tool like anything else, that it was not the ability itself which was evil, but the intent with which it was used, and Farid trusted his opinion.

He had grown ever closer to Professor Lupin in recent months, well, since the rape at least. Of the adults in his life, apart from Master of course, “Remus,” as the professor kept insisting Farid address him, was the one he liked best.

He didn’t quite trust Albus Greybeard; Farid believed that the old one was very fond of him, but also viewed him as a tool. He didn’t blame him for this, but he didn’t have to like it either. Sirius Black he liked too, but he thought the man was more immature than Farid or any of his friends and therefore could not always be trusted either.

But Remus was similar to Master; he truly seemed to like Farid, just the way he was, and he seemed also to have Farid’s best interests at heart, to want to prepare him for battle and ensure that he survived it intact. So together they had practiced parseltongue; Lupin had caught a number of little grass snakes near the Forbidden Forest and kept them in a tank in his rooms, and Farid had held them and talked to them and petted them. He had grown quite fond of them in fact, but had decided not to take them home, because he was worried about how Tariq might react.

But now he called the big snake forward - the one who had had its soul tainted, bound to the dark one. 

The snake was obeying him.

“You are a ssspeaker of the tongue?” it said.

“Husssh,” Farid answered, “Do you wisssh to be free of your thraldom or do you wisssh to ssserve the one who isss dark?” 

“Pleassse sssir, freedom sssir,” the snake replied eagerly.

Farid’s smile widened; he did not want to have to kill the creature unless he had no other choice. After all, no-one knew better that he how it felt to be enslaved.

So he said the words that Remus had taught him, but in parseltongue, so that no one but the snake and Voldemort could understand him.

“I command you, dark ssspirit to releassse the ssserpent. I command you to depart her sssoul. I demand that sssshe be releasssed from the thrall of evil, thisss I order in the name of thossse who have died un-avenged.”

The snake stiffened and then rose up, so that its upper body stood tall, free of the ground, swaying a little with the effort of holding itself erect. 

A small black cloud seemed to ooze from its skin and float in the air above its head. 

“Dissolvo,” he whispered and the evil essence just vanished away like morning dew. The snake stiffened and then collapsed to the ground. It was unconscious he knew, but otherwise unharmed. 

“STOP!” Voldemort had shouted. 

Farid smiled again; he had known that the Dark Lord would not be held long by the Petrificus spell, but he had wanted the other wizard to be aware of what was happening when Farid destroyed the final Horcrux. Not that the other wizard knew that the others had been destroyed; it was Farid’s task to tell him and he knew he was really going to enjoy himself now.

“Oh dear, Woldemort,” he said. “Have I broken zomezing? Oh silly me, zat was your last Horcrux too!”

Farid’s smirk took on a touch of wickedness as he saw the dawning horror in his opponent’s eyes.

But his face grew serious again as he said, “And now it is time to keel dyou! But I zink zat no one else should be hurt because of you and me; zis is between us, I zink.”

 

And, all at once, Farid and Voldemort were sealed in a gigantic bubble. It was almost completely clear but the barrier that was formed shimmered slightly and caught the light; it was very much like the barrier that Farid had conjured the night that they had been attacked by werewolves. It rose high into the air to float high above them in the Great Hall, close to the enchanted ceiling which showed nothing now other than a clear blue sky, which was darkening as the evening advanced, and a large white bird that continued to circle the school protectively.

Severus had gasped along with the rest of the occupants of the Great Hall when Farid spoke to Nagini in Parseltongue. He had forgotten that Black had told him about his slave being a parselmouth. In his defence, it had been when he had first discovered the strength of the bond and he had been preoccupied with trying to destroy overcome its strictures. But hearing it now, hearing Farid use it like he did, wielding it like a tool against the snake and her twisted owner sent shivers down Severus’ spine. He had never enquired too closely into what Farid had been learning with Remus - he trusted the man implicitly - but he wondered what other surprises might emerge as the battle continued. 

Then the sudden appearance of the bubble stunned them all, even Severus who had seen something like it before. Several of the Death Eaters rushed towards it in a useless attempt to release their master and it was then that the battle truly began.

The older students were fighting some of the Death Eaters; Seamus and Draco had overpowered one of them, and Ron had laid out another by the simple expedient of hitting him very hard with one of his iron-like fists.

Dumbledore was battling away, back to back with Minerva, trying to defend a number of terrified first years, who were huddled together peering out at the confrontation with large, frightened eyes. Flitwick and Remus were in another part of the room firing off curses and Sirius Black was surrounded by a number of figures, dressed in black, eyes dancing as he roundly cursed them all.

Even Severus had taken a few out of the battle, one of whom he recognised as Avery, whom he felt was owed a bit of pain from the end of Severus’ wand and another was Rudolphus Lestrange, who truly was vicious and without whom the world was undoubtedly a better place.

But then he heard something, and he turned quickly. Behind him was a Death Eater - Thaddeus Nott. He had Hermione in a neck lock; his arm was wrapped tightly around her throat. She was struggling, but he squeezed hard and all at once she stayed still.

“He won’t win you know, your little fuck toy,” he snarled gesturing with his head in Farid’s direction. “Put down your wand or I’ll break the mudblood’s neck.” Hermione obviously could not speak as Nott had his arm so tightly around her windpipe, she was struggling to breathe and Nott was dragging her ever closer; she seemed to be trying to signal something with her eyes, but Severus was taking no chances, not with Hermione’s safety. Slowly, carefully he lay down his wand.

Nott released his hold a bit, but didn’t seem prepared to release the girl completely.

Nott sneered at him, “Not so brave now are you, you fucking traitor? Do you know there was a lot of competition as to who was to get you? But I won. I won because thanks to you, you bastard, my Theo,” his jaw was trembling with barely suppressed emotion, “my son, my baby, killed himself. My beautiful child dead, all thanks to you and your little whore!”

Severus looked at him; he met the other man’s eyes steadily, without flinching. “I am sorry for your loss, Thaddeus,” he said, “but your son made his own choices when he raped and abused Farid.”

Thaddeus was crying now, openly sobbing. “That boy has been fucked by countless men,” he sobbed, “why should _my_ son be the one to pay? The slut’s like an old broom, everyone’s ridden him!”

Severus was disgusted; no wonder Theodore had been the way he was if this was his father’s attitude. The man had his arm extended towards Severus, wand pointed at his heart. His hand was shaking badly.

“You’re going to suffer now, Snape,” he hissed. “You are going to die slowly and watch while the Dark Lord puts your little pussy down.”

Then several things happened all at once.

Hermione elbowed Nott in the stomach, whilst at the same time someone fired a stunning spell that was so powerful, had so much force behind it, that it sent Nott flying backwards into the wall behind them; they all heard his spine snap with a sickening crack. There was an explosion from the bubble and the other Death Eaters all fell to the ground simultaneously, unconscious. But Severus felt a sharp pain, blood was pouring from his stomach; he was bleeding.

Nott had cast a spell of his own before he died: _sectumsempra._

Severus fell to his knees, he suddenly felt really cold. Everything else seemed so far away, so distant. 

He could hear Hermione’s scream, he thought she shouted his name.

Ron shouted too - he was much closer than Hermione. “ _Oh Merlin! Professor Snape!_ ” he yelled.

His knees wouldn’t hold him and he slumped down to his side, everything seemed to be going dark around the edges. Severus knew that the curse was usually fatal; he was going to die, and it was his own spell, one that he had invented in youthful arrogance and had felt so stupidly proud of that was going to kill him.

He had to see his Farid though, before he died; he dragged his head round to look at the combat that was currently occupying his lover, it felt so heavy, so hard to move but he managed, he had to. Both the battling wizards were still encased inside the bubble of magic that Farid had created; he could see the lights from the spells that they were firing at each other. 

Farid was magnificent, he was dancing in the air, in the battleground that he had created, matching Voldemort hex for hex, curse for curse.

‘I did that,’ Severus said to himself proudly, ‘I helped him become a warrior; I helped him become a man.’

Hermione had reached him, she was crying all over him; she had ripped off her robe and seemed to be pressing it to his wounds.

‘Silly girl,’ he mused, ‘doesn’t she know it’s already too late for me?’

He thought back to the servile child that Farid had been only a few short months ago and how far he had come towards manhood, towards independence and he smiled.

“My clever, darling boy.” He could barely see through his tears now, he wanted to hold Farid in his arms, kiss him passionately just one more time. He had no doubt that Farid would win, but he didn’t think that he would be there to see it. 

“Live for me, little one!” he whispered. 

He could hear Hermione weeping, she was leaning on his chest with all her weight but she sounded far away, like she was at the end of a very long tunnel. “Don’t you die on me you old bastard,” she was shouting. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

Severus almost laughed at what Farid would say if he heard staid, sensible Hermione, who never, ever swore, using such language.

“I love you my darling,” barely even a whisper now, perhaps just a shadow of one? “Be free Farid my dearest, be free.”

He opened his hand and, all at once, he could see the bond, the shining golden chain that bound them. It didn’t look any different to Severus to the way it had been all those months ago when Farid had first shown it to him. But it _felt different_.

And as he watched, as he said those words over and over, too quietly to be heard by human ears, the bond began to dissolve, dissipate. The links on the chain, slowly started to unravel, to soften and to become wispy, like clouds on a summer day, faster and faster as Severus continued his mantra, “be free, my love, be free,” until all at once it was gone. The bond that had held them together for so many months had simply melted away.

Severus’ eyes felt so heavy; it was too much effort to hold them open any more, so finally he let them close.

He heard Hermione scream, “NNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

But he knew he was smiling; imprinted on his eyelids was a picture of a wonderful hero, of a final battle and a glorious boy, fulfilling his destiny.

Finally the bond was gone, the connection dissolved, his hand was empty at last and, until that moment, Severus hadn’t realised how full it had been before.


	43. Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Three

Farid had successfully evaded a bone crushing curse when he saw Nott senior raise his wand to Severus; he sent off a stunning curse which threw the man back against the nearby wall. Simultaneously, Farid also stunned all of the other Death Eaters - he could not risk any injuries to his friends or indeed any of the children or teachers at Hogwarts.

But he had to return his attention to Voldemort almost immediately, as his opponent would give no quarter, he knew. The Dark Lord was ruthless; he now knew that he was mortal and could be killed: he was fighting Farid for his life.

But Farid was not frightened; he felt strangely elated, full of confidence. This is what he had trained for with Master and with Remus; Master knew Voldemort’s fighting style, and the dark wizard was reacting exactly how Master had predicted he would. So it was easy for Farid to counter his every move. Then, all at once, Farid felt a sharp pain around his heart and was momentarily incapacitated. From the corner of his eye, he saw Voldemort raise his wand and fire off a curse, so he did the same in retaliation. 

All at once, a surge of power ran through him and he was flung back against the wall of the bubble. He did not have time to think about what had happened to him; he did not have time to do more than react to the powerful magic that was assailing him. The wands had connected; what seemed like a ribbon fired with lightning joined the two wands and they started to shake violently. It was all Farid could do to hold on whilst he was whirled round and round the inside of the bubble, still connected to his enemy via the wands. 

Voldemort was shouting at him in parseltongue; he was shouting about how the world owed him: for his dreadful childhood, the rejection he had suffered, the pain. He was spewing hatred at Farid, threatening death, agony, torture. And at the same time he was trying to probe Farid’s mind. Farid smiled to himself; if Voldemort wanted to see torture, experience pain and suffering, then Farid would let him. 

He grasped firmly at the tendrils that he could feel brushing his mind and pulled them inside his memories. He showed Voldemort everything: all the darkness, all the pain; he showed him _his_ dreadful childhood and he would not let him go, not until he had seen it all, every last thing.

When they finally broke contact, Voldemort was screaming.

He had broken the connection between them and he was clutching his head in his hands. When he looked at Farid again, his eyes were flashing they were a deep dark red.

“What are you, boy?” he hissed; he was still speaking in parseltongue. “You ssshould kill them all for what they did, for they let happen to you. Join me and together we will rule the world, you can be dark, I can sssee it inside you!”

“Oh I don’t think sssso,” Farid told him. “You sssee, I only hold one wizard ressssponssssible for what happened to me, and that wizard issss you. I ssshall take the greatessst pleasssure in killing you, however!”

Voldemort roared his defiance he pulled back his wand - a wand that looked a bit battered, a bit charred. He curled his lip. 

“Let us end this, boy! Avada Kadavra”

Farid laughed. He held out a hand and caught the curse; it was easy, he could see the light, shining green, sinister, reflecting in the almost transparent skin of the bubble.

He rolled the light into a ball and bounced it in his hand as if it were a child’s toy; the other wizard just stood and stared. Farid almost laughed he felt, strong, invincible. 

“Look at my pretty ball, Woldemort,” he said. “Here, vhy don’t dyou catch?”

And he threw the curse back at the man who had cast it. It met its target and hit the Dark Lord right in the middle of his chest; for just a second Farid caught a glimpse of the other wizard’s face - the shock, the horror that froze his features - and then Voldemort exploded into a thousand tiny shards of light.

Farid was thrown backwards by the force of the blast, but he managed to recover himself quite quickly. 

But then he looked down. In a corner of the hall, lying in a pool of blood was his master. Poppy was beside him; she seemed desperately trying to save him but he was not moving, and Farid knew that Master was gone - he could not feel him any longer, there was nothing, the bond was gone too. Farid was alone. Then he was falling, he was slipping into unconsciousness, everything was blackness, and he knew no more.

 

When Severus awoke, he felt weak and battered. It hurt to breathe but, more than anything, he was astonished that he was still breathing. This time it was Remus beside his bed.

He lay there and just looked at the werewolf for a moment until the other man noticed his scrutiny. Remus smiled at him wearily.

“Hello, Severus. How are you feeling?”

Severus coughed, “Like I’ve been sliced open by a cutting curse,” he croaked. His chest felt tight, like it had been constricted; a sheet lay across his midriff, and could see a large white bandage swathing his torso. 

“You nearly died, Severus,” Remus said. “Just a few seconds more and you would have been dead. Thaddeus Nott managed to sever several major veins and arteries; if it had not been for Hermione, we would not have been able to save you. Apparently she has taken a Muggle course called _First Aid_ ; without her actions you would undoubtedly have died. She did something called _applying pressure._ It kept you alive until Poppy could get to you; not that I think Hermione was planning on letting you die any time soon, she is a most determined young lady, I think!” 

Severus was only half listening, he needed to know how Farid was; nothing else mattered, really. From force of habit he felt for the bond, and realised with a pang that it was there no longer.

“Farid?” he asked urgently. “How is Farid?” Remus looked infinitely sad.

“He won Severus; he defeated the Dark Lord, but there was some sort of explosion at the end, and he fell so hard to the ground. He has been in what Poppy calls a catatonic state ever since. 

“We can’t wake him; he has lain in that bed over there for more than 48 hours now. 

“He saved us all, but we can’t wake him. I thought that maybe, just maybe, you could try using the bond.”

“No,” Severus whispered, “Oh no! Oh Merlin, I can’t Remus, there is no bond; I dissolved it. He is free; I thought I was dying so I released him. Farid is no longer a slave, he is a free man.” Remus said nothing to that, he looked shocked though, completely stunned. “Hermione found out how,” Severus said. “She told me that day, she just told me before the battle, so when I thought I was dying, I set him free.

“Can I see him, please can I see him?”

“You mustn’t move, Sev,” Remus answered. His voice sounded hoarse with emotion. “Your wounds have sealed, but the skin is still very delicate, it could still break open, it could still tear.”

He stilled, he seemed to be thinking for a moment. “If you promise to lie quietly, I will wheel you closer; but you must promise me, Severus, that you will not move.” Severus looked into his friend’s eyes, he nodded, just once.

So Remus moved him. He wheeled the bed, on which Severus lay prone, closer; so that he could see Farid, so that without stretching he could reach across and hold the ice-cold hand of the boy that he loved beyond reason.

It was so different this time; before when Farid had been unconscious, his breathing had been even, his eyes closed, but this time there was something very different happening. Farid lay still, deathly still, and he was so very pale. His breathing was shallow, his chest barely moving at all, and his eyes, that was the worst of all; his beautiful green eyes were open, but it was almost as if they were shaded - there was no vestige of life, no sparkle in them at all.

When Poppy came to examine Severus and to scold him for letting Lupin move his bed, she told him that Farid had fractured his skull.

He had had other injuries too, but they had been healed soon enough; it was the head injury that was causing concern.

“When he fell it was awful; he plummeted to the ground, and hit his head so hard, we all heard it, it reverberated, echoed around the hall. He hasn’t moved since.”

“He is in a deep coma, one from which he may never wake. His brain swelled for quite some time and I had to widen the split in his skull for a little while, to relieve the pressure. Since, his brain returned to normal size though there has been no response. I think that he has gone Severus, I can find no brain activity, whatever we do, there is no reaction; I think he is brain dead.”

“No!” Severus said firmly, catching the eye of the mediwitch. “Don’t you write him off, don’t you dare! He is very strong my Farid, he has survived so much. He has won, he has so much to live for, he will not die; I will not let him.”

But, as the days wore on, nothing changed.

Visitors streamed in and out of their room all the time. As the spring sunshine gave way to early summer, visitor after visitor came by and told Severus what had happened in the battle and what was now occurring in the outside world. Each day Severus grew stronger: he was able to sit up, the bandages came off, he was able to get out of bed for longer periods each day; and, all the time, Farid lay there, small and fragile, eyes focussed on nothing, and slowly but surely, everyone gave into despair. Everyone that is, except Severus, who would not give in, who instead washed his boy and combed his hair lovingly and talked to him about what he had heard, what others had told him of the outside world and sat for hour upon hour, just holding Farid’s slender hand.

The world had changed so much since the battle, it seemed. Farid and Voldemort had fought for more than forty minutes; curses had flown back and forth and with the two of them in cased in their bubble the entire school had had a grandstand view. No one really knew why Farid had cast the field around himself and Voldemort, had taken the battle up in the air, but the general consensus was that it kept everyone else safe and out of harm’s way. And wasn’t that just like Farid?

Voldemort had been firing curse after curse at the boy, and he had been freezing them, sending them right back. The final curse had been green and glowing and, when Farid had stopped that and returned it, Voldemort had exploded into a thousand pieces, shattered, destroyed. That’s when the bubble had burst and Farid had apparently just floated in mid-air for a moment before collapsing to the floor far below him, like a puppet who had had its strings cut.

Everyone had seen him fall, but no one had been fast enough to catch him; Severus berated himself for the fact that he had not been there, because surely if he had been, then he would have done something.

Visitor after visitor expressed their regret that they had not been able to help Farid, that nobody had been able to stop his fall. They talked about what had happened during the battle, how the Death Eaters had all fallen unconscious at once, thereby saving many lives. Not a single child or a member of staff had died that day - several Death Eaters had, though. 

And the rest of them, why the rest of them…. 

When Farid had fallen, all eyes had locked on him. Sirius Black had reached the crumpled form before anyone else, but they had not moved him until the mediwitch arrived, and she had been busy for quite some time saving Severus’ life. Instead, someone had fetched a blanket to cover him, and then everyone had just waited.

So Sirius had sat by the boy, and held a small white hand in his own huge paw-like fist, not stirring for nearly an hour whilst they waited for someone from St Mungo’s to come; all around him the children and other teachers had stood, spontaneously holding a silent vigil for the boy who had saved them all. Then, when the magi-medics had finally arrived, they had finally noticed the babies.

Every single one of the Death Eaters who had not died had vanished, and in the place of each of them was a small child, none of them older than about two years of age. Some of them were crying, others held tight the robes that no longer fitted them, but that had pooled around them on the floor and yet more just sat and stared at the students. Not a one wore a Dark Mark; each of them had been taken back to a time of innocence.

Remus told Severus that the spell that Farid had cast (for who other than Farid could have done such a thing?) must have held them all in stasis until Farid himself was moved. As soon as the medics had lifted him to a magical stretcher, the spell that held the children frozen in place had been removed and they had come to life, to consciousness.

It was the existence of these children that had finally deposed Fudge. 

The Minister for Magic had become increasingly unpopular since his recent encounter with Farid. In the days that followed the battle, he had had some tough questions to answer about why the school had been so vulnerable, how Voldemort had managed to attack, why it was not protected so that the Death Eaters had had to be fought by a handful of teachers and older students, and how come an eighteen-year-old boy had defeated Voldemort all by himself, with no back up and no support from so called ‘well-trained battle hardened Aurors.’

It had been Fudge himself who had prevented the magi-medics from getting to the school, insisting that the area must be made safe before they were allowed to enter it, a dictate that did not go down well with the parents of children who had suffered injuries.

But Fudge truly did not know what to do with the toddlers; he was completely flummoxed when it came to them. He at first tried to have them sent to Azkaban, but that idea has soon been quashed by a number of very important individuals. Indeed, some of the Death Eaters who had been incarcerated were released, as they too had been returned to childhood. Draco Malfoy had had to go haring off to rescue a toddler Lucius and take him to the cottage in which he and his mother now lived.

Farid, it seemed, had judged the Death Eaters; what the criteria was nobody knew, but he had obviously decided that a number of them deserved a second chance. So he had returned them to childhood, early childhood, to give them that chance. It was not lost on Severus that, once the children had been examined by Poppy, they were pronounced to be fifteen months old - the exact age that Harry Potter had been when his parents were killed.

It was Adrian Barnard, Farid’s American journalist friend, who had finally confronted the Minister on behalf of a hostile and angry press corp. as Fudge led a team of Aurors who were gamefully trying to arrest thirty-seven small children and escort them to prison. Adrian had suggested that the Minister was a fool and a coward who was only capable of bullying tactics. Furthermore, the fact that he had delayed the magi-medics because he was scared of a handful of babies meant that he could well be responsible for Farid’s current condition, since their late arrival may or may not have contributed to the hero’s current condition.

After Barnard’s passionate condemnation, Cornelius Fudge was gone by morning and Amelia Bones was appointed interim minister in his stead. 

She took over responsibility for a team of Aurors - whose morale was at an all time low - thirty-seven children (plus six more later retrieved from prison), and an Azkaban that no longer had guards. She took charge of a magical world that was, for the first time in more than twenty years, completely free of terror, and she took charge of protecting a hero who slumbered all-unknowing about what was taking place, whilst the political landscape was changing and history was being made.

She visited Farid several times, telling Severus all about the Order of Merlin that they wanted to present to the boy, the glowing future he could have as an Auror, if he decided that that was what he wanted to do. But she had no more success than anyone else at waking him up and, oblivious to the changes that were going on around him, Farid merely slept on.


	44. Chapter Forty-Four

A/N Sorry had to rush out to work this morning, but I promised three chapters today, here's number three. Thanks Kim and TQA for the usual brilliant support.

 

Chapter Forty-Four

 

Farid was still wandering; he really didn’t know how long he had been in this place and he felt so lost. The landscape was weird - dark and full of strange, distorted images oozing out of a chasm, slowly distorting the world even further. He kept looking at the chasm that he had found in the centre of this strange unfathomable world; going back to it time after time. It was dark and sinister and beyond comprehension. Farid shivered; he wished Master was here with him, he desperately wanted a hug. 

The chasm frightened him; it was deep and mysterious and the distorted images that it spewed just came thicker and faster. Every so often, Farid would catch sight of one of his friends, but they always seemed to be in the distance, just going round a corner or disappearing out of view.

Even worse, he had on occasion seen or heard Yusuf, or Vernon Dursley, they were looking for him he thought and so he was hiding.

Once or twice he had seen Master, but he was always talking to someone else, his attention elsewhere as Farid tried to go to him. Usually, as Farid drew nearer, he would turn and walk away, and then Uncle Vernon or Yusuf would appear in the distance and Farid would have to flee

Finally, after weeks of searching he thought he found somewhere that he would be safe; he was standing outside a room, it seemed to be a nursery and there was a very small boy inside, playing with toys that he would take out of a basket and shake or rattle or chew. Farid smiled; it looked so protected in there, so welcoming. He watched the child playing for a moment or two and then, and then he _was_ the child, the child was himself, and all at once Farid knew where he was. 

This was his own head, he was trapped in his mind; these were his memories. The chasm was where he had hit his head when he fell. He was dying; it was killing him slowly, destroying his mind and smothering him with darkness. 

Yusuf could not hurt him here, could not damage him, because he was only a memory. He was in the past, their connection was finished. Vernon Dursley was no more than a phantasm either; he too could no longer hurt Farid. 

But then what of the bond? Farid had seen no evidence for it; he had searched this place for weeks and it seemed to be gone. Had Master gone too? Had he died already?

Farid had seen him fall, felt the tear inside him that must have been the destruction of the bond, he remembered now. But if it was gone, truly destroyed, then Master _must_ have gone too, and Farid didn’t think he could handle that. How could he carry on in a world without Master, even if the bond would allow it?

He looked down at himself, yet not himself. Those knees were not his knees; they were the chubby fat little legs of a toddler. He looked around at the room in which he sat; it was bright and jolly. An animated frieze decorated the wall, magical animals chased each other in a perpetual circle painted in shining colours, reds and blues and golds. He didn’t remember this room, was he back at his uncle’s? Was this Dudley’s room?

But then he heard a woman’s voice. It was beautiful, melodic; he thought he could listen to it forever. He turned his head to see she who had spoken and saw bright emerald eyes, so like his own, and vibrant copper hair.

“Harry.” She was smiling this woman, smiling at him and her face was full of love and wonder. He knew her, of course he did. She was Lily Potter and he was her son.

And all at once he knew: A long time ago, before Master, before the bad things that had happened to him happened, before the Dursley’s, before Yusuf, he had been a little boy called Harry Potter who’s parents had loved him very much.

“Come on, my little man,” his mother was saying softly, “come to Mummy. You can do it, you can come.”

She was standing by the door; she had her arms outstretched and, behind her, Farid could see a bright inviting light that spoke of home and love and comfort, a light that was calling to him.

He struggled to his feet - it wasn’t easy, he was very wobbly, but he managed. He pushed himself up, stretching his arms wide in front of himself, looking for balance.

“Come on sweetie,” his mother was saying, “you can do it, my clever boy.”

Farid laughed, his mother was proud of him. It didn’t sound like his laugh though, it sounded like a gurgle.

But his mother’s arms were spread wide and they looked so safe, so inviting that Farid could not help himself, he took a step forward on shaky legs.

His mother was laughing too.

She called out to someone just beyond the doorway, “James, James, come and see! He’s walking, he’s doing it; our Harry’s coming back to us.”

Then his mother was joined by a laughing man with a big smile and sparkling hazel eyes, “Well done, my Harry,” he was saying. “Clever boy, come on then, son. Come on, come to Daddy!”

And then, all at once, Farid wasn’t a baby anymore; he was himself, all grown. A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye; a tear of sadness for those he was leaving behind, a tear of regret. Maybe this was the right decision? He hoped so. Maybe it was time for him to go onwards?

His parents didn’t seem to care that he had changed - they were still there and they still had their arms held wide. They were smiling at him, welcoming him. The light was behind them, warm and inviting, calling him, still calling him, onward to another realm. He didn’t have to stay here any longer in this scary place, he could chose to move forward to be somewhere that he would never again know the pain, the loneliness that he had had to endure in his life. He could go somewhere that he could be happy, and maybe Master was waiting for him on the other side of the light?

So Farid took another step and another - it got easier with each small stride. He squared his shoulders and continued towards them, walking towards the light, finally going home.

 

Severus was sitting beside Farid as he did each day, at least for some of the time - he had had to go back to teaching eventually, after all. Albus was here too and Ron, Hermione, Draco and Neville. It had become a bit of a tradition with them now: they would visit Farid before dinner and talk to him, tell him about the day they had had, and what was planned for later. And afterwards, after dinner, Severus would return alone or with Tariq, who missed his bright and active little master and sit with Farid until bedtime. Perhaps doing a bit of marking, perhaps reading a book, but simply keeping his lover company, because he knew how Farid hated to be alone. He owed him so much, his boy, they all did. But it had been five weeks now and Farid had still not woken.

Poppy continued to contest that Farid was dying, that the essence that had been Farid was no more, but still Severus would not let him go. He insisted that Poppy feed the boy magically, that he be monitored, kept clean and dry. 

Once or twice he had tried to enter Farid’s mind, and had found nothing but confusion and darkness, although he refused to believe that that meant that Farid was lost. Severus believed that somewhere on the other side of the darkness, Farid was trapped. But if they kept talking to him, telling him that they loved him, that they missed him, someday, somehow Farid would find his way home. 

He was talking to Albus about the advanced potions class - it would soon be time for them to take their exams, he was quite worried about Anthony Goldstein, who seemed to have become stuck in a rut. He was just about to mention this to the Headmaster when Hermione screamed.

“ _Farid_ Oh Farid! Help him, help him, he has stopped breathing!”

Severus whirled round to look at the boy and sure enough his chest had stilled. Farid had indeed stopped breathing; his eyes still stared ahead unseeingly and Severus mouthed the word ‘no.’

But then, all at once, he saw a glimmer of hope; for out of the corner of Farid’s eye, a tear had emerged, it was making its way slowly along his cheek. Severus lunged forward; he grabbed Farid’s cold pale cheeks in his hands and peered deep into his eyes - somewhere deep, deep inside he saw just the trace of a glint of light. 

He wrenched his cloak off. “Take this, Miss Granger. I am going in, he is not dead yet!”

“No my boy,” It was Albus. “I cannot let you do that, he has gone. He was a wonderful boy, a glorious individual, but we have lost him, let him die in peace.”

Severus almost screamed in frustration - he did not have time for this. Instead, he turned towards Albus with fury in his eyes.

“Just back off, old man!” he yelled. “Stay away from me and from him. You have meddled in his life one time too many; there is something alive in Farid, I saw it! I am going to find it and bring it back.”

“But Severus,” Dumbledore looked shocked by his outburst, “if you go into his mind now and he dies, we could lose you too.”

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take,” he said, more softly this time. “My life is nothing without Farid, without him I might as well be dead. Ron,” he said turning to the redhead, and jerking his own head in the direction of the Headmaster, “take out your wand; if he tries to hinder me in any way, hex him.” Then without more ado he took his own wand, peered deep into Farid’s eyes and said, “ _legilimens._ ”

Then Severus was falling and falling, through darkness, through space. He had never had the courage to let go before in quite this way. He did not know what was ahead, but for Farid, for his dearest love, it was worth the risk.

He was seeing images now - they were memories. Severus felt that he had fallen into a painting by Heironymus Bosch, so hideous, so nightmarish were the pictures before him. He had thought that he had known it all, what had happened to Farid, but seeing it, seeing the boy’s dreadful memories broke something in Severus and he knew that if he ever came out of this, he would never be the same again.

Then, all at once, he had landed. He was lying on a grass slope by the lake at Hogwarts, the sun was shining and it was warm: he was in a memory. A shadow fell over him, a shape, and he looked up. Whoever it was, he was standing in front of the sun and he could not see him clearly.

Then he heard a voice: it was familiar and, at the same time, quite changed - a boy’s voice, deep but not yet as deep as it would one day be.

“Hello, Master,” said the voice, “I wondered when you would come for me?”

Severus sat up.

“Farid?” he said, “Farid, is that you?”

“Of course it’s me,” the voice said, a little grumpily, Severus thought. But then the shadow sat down and at last Severus saw his boy, his beautiful boy. He was smiling, his eyes were dancing and he was alive and well.

“I got lost,” Farid, said, “I kept trying to find the way home, but I got lost. I was waiting for you. Please Master, take me home.”

Severus knew he was grinning from ear to ear - ‘like a loon,’ as his mother would have said.

“I am so glad to see you my love, my precious boy. I gave up waiting and came to find you, but you don’t have your accent, darling, you don’t sound like yourself,” he chuckled as he pulled the boy into a fierce embrace.

Farid pulled back for a moment and looked up at Severus with his gorgeous green eyes displaying his puzzlement.

“Of course I don’t have an accent, Master!” he said. “This is how I sound in my own head!”

Severus chuckled and kissed him on the nose.

“You sound lovely,” he said as he tenderly kissed Farid’s neck next. 

“Do I have an accent, then? Normally, I mean?” Farid demanded, pulling away from the kisses and looking at him somewhat quizzically.

Severus just chuckled as he nodded, rubbing his cheek against Farid’s.

“I am not your Master anymore, little one,” Severus whispered. “Did you know?”

Now it was Farid’s turn to nod. “Yes,” he said, a little sadly, “I thought that you had died, that you had left me. For the longest time I was very confused. I just wandered around, looking for you, not knowing where I was; I had seen you just lying there after the battle and I thought I had lost you. I didn’t know where I was, what was happening to me, but then I saw Lily and James.”

He let out a sad laugh, “My Mum and Dad. They wanted me to join them, go into the light and I nearly did, I almost went. But at the last minute I stopped - I couldn’t do it.”

Severus was peering at him intently. “Why not?” he asked gently. “Why did you come back?”

Farid lifted his head and met Severus gaze unflinchingly. “I couldn’t,” he said, “I couldn’t just leave my friends like that; I wanted to live.” Then he lowered his gaze once more, then so softly that Severus had to listen hard to hear his next words, “And you weren’t there; I thought that if you had died, you’d be waiting for me too. So I told them that I wasn’t ready to die yet, that there were lots of things that I wanted to do first, and that I thought that I was free, that somehow you had freed me and I wanted to try freedom, just for a while.”

Then Farid’s eyes filled with tears. “They said they were proud of me, that they loved me and that one day, when I was ready they would be waiting for me.”

Severus put his arm around his boy, and Farid leaned into his embrace. “They called me Harry,” Farid was continuing, “but I told them that the little boy that I was meant to be died when he was just a child. I said that I might be Harry Potter to the world but to my loved ones and friends I was known as Farid.”

“What did they say to that?” Severus asked, curiously.

“They said that I was their son, whatever my name was, and that they both loved me, beyond life itself.”

Severus could not say anything to that, so he just pulled the boy closer and held him for a while. They sat on the grassy hill, in the sunshine, he and Farid.

“I saw your memories, Farid,” he whispered, “I saw some of the things that they did to you; they were awful, dreadful! I never knew.”

But Farid had put a finger to Severus’ lips, “Shush, Master,” he said. “They are in the past; they cannot hurt me anymore. I have come to terms with them, accepted them. They will always be a part of me, but they do not have to rule my life, not any more. I have you now, you came for me like I knew you would”

Severus smiled, “Are you going to come home then?” he asked tentatively.

“Oh yes, Master,” Farid told him, “I want to go home. It is just that it’s peaceful, here in my head, and I’m not really sure of the way.”

“I’ll show you then, shall I?” Severus told him. “It’s not Master any more, by the way. My name is Severus.” And he took Farid’s hand in his and led his beloved back to life, back to a future pregnant with hope and love.

 

Farid’s room was in uproar! Everyone was shouting and rushing about rather uselessly. Severus opened his eyes to find that he was still holding Farid’s hand.

“Stop!” he bellowed. “That will do!” He was obeyed instantly, silence descended. 

“Oh, Professor Snape,” Hermione was speaking, possibly for all off them, including Albus who had obviously taken Severus words to heart and was keeping quiet, “we thought we had lost you. Thank goodness you are alright! Farid started breathing again a moment or two ago but we couldn’t wake you and…..” She trailed off she was staring at the bed. “Oh!” she said softly.

Severus followed her gaze.

Farid was awake. He was very pale and obviously weak, but he was awake. His eyes were sparkling madly, with a twinkle to rival Albus’.

“Hello, Severoos,” he said with a smile on his lips. He squeezed Severus’ hand gently. “Zank you for bringing me home.”


	45. Chapter Forty-Five

A/N this chapter just about brings this story to an end. There is one more chapter after this, an epilogue. It just needs a teeny bit more tweeking and then it will be up too, probably tomorrow. I hope you have enjoyed my little story, I have enjoyed writing it and learned a lot along the way. Thanks to my dear friends Kim and TQA who have helped me and supported me and thanks to you for reading and reviewing. ~ Lucie

 

Chapter Forty-Five

It was the end of August. In a few short days, the Hogwarts Express would arrive, bringing a horde of children back to the school. Severus was dreading it in a way - the last two months had been sheer bliss for him, finally; he was settled, he knew, and truly happy at last. 

He was on his way down to the quidditch pitch to see Farid; his lover was practicing flying techniques with Ron and Draco. Severus grinned, he loved being able to say those words, ‘my lover.’ He wanted to see his boy, walk him home; they had not been together all day. Severus had been busy; he had several potions to brew and classrooms to get in order. There had been a staff meeting that morning to discuss various matters and Severus knew that the long lazy days of the summer holidays were coming to an end.

Farid was much better. He was still weak, and would be for sometime. He had been so ill for so long but each day now he seemed a little stronger, a little more capable and Severus could not be more proud.

He had arranged for dinner to be served in his quarters for all of them: Ron and Seamus, Hermione and Draco, Neville and Pansy. They were all staying for a couple of days before the start of the autumn term and Severus found he was quite pleased to see them. Each of them was starting work soon and they would not be around much and he knew that Farid loved to see his friends. Farid would not start his new job for a few months yet; he had been selected to play Quidditch for the Pride of Portree - they had approached him at the end of the summer term. Farid had not, of course, flown again for some time after the battle with Voldemort, but a scout had apparently attended the match at which he had beaten Draco Malfoy so easily and had never forgotten Farid’s skill on a broom. 

So in July, just before his birthday, Farid had gone with Sirius to trial for the team. According to a very exuberant Black, Farid had wowed them all, flying rings around seasoned, professional players, even in his weakened state. So now Farid was looking forward to his future as a seeker for one of the best teams in the league and Severus was proud of him. 

Once other clubs had realised that Farid was available, several more had approached him, but he had turned them all down in favour of Portree. It was so close after all and Farid would be home each night and for him, being near his Sev, was the most important thing of all. 

They saw so little of Sirius Black these days; he was a very busy man. He had taken on the guardianship of the “Potter Children,” as the de-aged Death Eaters were known. He and Adrian Barnard had grown very close during the months when Farid was convalescing. Adrian was good for Sirius; he kept him in order, calmed him down when he went rushing off on one of his wilder schemes and helped him grow closer to Farid. Adrian seemed to understand the boy almost better than anyone. He had never forgotten his first meeting with the young man or how impressed he had been with Farid’s spirit and bravery.

And the American wizard was very impressed with Farid’s solution for dealing with the ex-Death Eaters. He felt that the majority of them had been led astray, had been brought up with prejudice and hatred and needed to be shown another way of thinking.

Sirius wanted to help the children because he had not been able to help or rescue Harry, or his own brother Regulus, for that matter, who was lost to Voldemort long before Harry was even born. So he had bought a large house in the country and roped in an army of support, including house-elves, Remus and Muggleborn Hermione Granger, who was happy to teach these children about her world. Maybe this time, the children who had been raised in an atmosphere of distrust and lies would learn a very different viewpoint would grow up in a very different world.

The rest of the magical world was suspending judgement until the children were older, but most people seemed well disposed towards them; it had been the idea of their beloved Saviour after all.

Some of the children did have parents still around. Some wanted to raise their children again, but differently this time. Still others had children, who were now older than them, but who felt very differently about the world. Draco Malfoy took responsibility for raising Lucius, and Greg and Vincent also took responsibility for their respective fathers’ upbringing.

So Severus mused as he wandered down to the Quidditch stands. Hermione was there reading a book on child development by Lev Vygotsky; she had told Severus that she thought the man had some excellent ideas that would translate well to the magical world and the upbringing of so many children.

They sat for a while and talked as the sky grew darker and the three dots in the sky descended and finally landed just in front of them. Then, all at once, Severus found that he could not move: he was frozen to his seat. The others seemed similarly affected; in fact the only one of them who seemed still able to move was Farid.

It was dusk now - the evening was approaching rapidly and it was then that Severus saw a figure coming towards them all. He was tall and imposing, dark hair greying at the temples and darker eyes which seemed to pierce the very soul of a man; it was Farid’s erstwhile master, Yusuf.

Farid met this challenge like he met all challenges: he straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and stared the vampire eye to eye.

“Vat do you vant?” he asked coldly, as the alpha vampire reached them.

Yusuf stopped in front of him and put out a hand to touch Farid’s hair; Farid slapped it away.

Yusuf chuckled. 

“Little one, you do not change, huh? You still have the lion’s heart, no?” Farid did not answer; he merely narrowed his eyes and shot Yusuf a look that would have made Severus flinch had he been able to move. He was desperately trying to break the spell, but with no success.

“I am leaving Europe, little one,” Yusuf was saying in modulated tones, “I have come to ask you to join me, to come with me. I have not been able to forget you and I know I never will.” He smiled, looking into Farid’s eyes. “I was wrong to change them, your eyes,” he continued. “They are so much more arousing in their original colour; if I had left them as they are perhaps you would not have been able to hide from me, huh?

“I should have known how powerful you were; I tried so hard to break you, and yet I never did. This is why I gave you to your English Wizard - I could not bear to see my little toy killed, drained of that delicious life that fills you to the brim.”

But Farid had had enough. “Listen, Yusuf,” he said quietly. His accent had improved beyond all recognition in recent months, but it was still in evidence, especially when he got annoyed. “Vhy don’t you just piss off! Because I do not vant to see you, release my friends and my lover and crawl back under jour stone!”

Yusuf threw back his head and laughed, “You have such spirit little one, you captured my heart; did you know this?” All at once there was a deep sadness in his eyes. “Do you know how lonely eternity is, little one? Come and share it with me? You will have such power, undreamed of power, all the magic that you have running through you, with no morals, no conscience to stop you, just think what we could do. I will turn your friends too, if you want me too. I will give you anything that you desire. I kept away the dark creatures from your battle with the half blood who wanted to be immortal. The dementors I could not stop, but the others do as I say; all dark creatures do.

“I have lived a long time, little one; eight hundred years as ‘Yusuf.’ Before that I had many names: Lucifer, Osiris, Mithras. For generations of men, I have witnessed their history, drank from their throats, revelled in their submission, but you, you little one are different, you are well named I think, you are truly unique. The others, so many others, they are to me like dreams that pass quickly, few have I remembered: Alexander, Caligula, Caesar. Each of them gave me many rewards; Temüjin brought me armies on which to feast. I have been there for the darkest days of your history and revelled in the blood of the insects known as mankind. They are of no value, men, but you, little one, are different; never, never in all of my long, long life have I met anyone quite like you.”

Farid regarded him steadily. “You vill not get near me, Yusuf. I am an adult now, not a small child; I will tear out my weins with my teeth rather than let you near me. Leave now vhilst you still can; if I ever meet you again I _vill_ kill you.”

The vampire’s face grew grave. “I know you would say this, my Farid, I know that I have no chance, but I not forgive myself if I not try. I just wanted one more taste of that special potent blood of yours; I have never tasted anything like it before or since. I miss it, I miss you, you spoil me for ordinary blood now. 

“I will go far away now. There are plenty of places where I can live on the misery of others; long has it been so, long will it remain so. But you and your children and the children of your friends, they will be safe from me and my kin. The blood that flows in your veins has been flavoured by my blood; those that belong to me, they will know you and you will never be harmed. Live long little one, be happy.”

He took Farid’s hand in his and brought in gently to his lips, and this time Farid did not pull away.

“Farewell, sweet slave. I love you dearly.”

Then he was gone, as if he had never been, and all of them could move again.

Severus rushed forward and pulled his lover into his arms; Farid was trembling violently.

“Fucking Hell,” Ron said, “I have never been so scared in all my life, even Voldemort wasn’t as scary as him. It is just as well he froze all of me or I might have shit myself. How the fuck did you survive him, Farid?”

But Farid was laughing. What Severus had taken to be fear, was in fact Farid stifling his giggles and finally when Ron said this, Farid let go his mirth. He laughed and he laughed, whilst the others looked on in astonishment.

“He is not so scary anymore,” Farid said when he had finally stopped laughing. “He is ze bogeyman, he is no longer able to hurt me; I am not frightened any more. I am still veak or I could have killed him, zis he knew I zink. Zis is vhy he come now, when I not quite strong. He was in my nightmares for so long, but not anymore, for me he is dead, and one day when I am full grown I vill find him and kill him perhaps.”

As he said this, his power, which had indeed been weakened by his battle with Voldemort, crackled around him and Severus knew that they were all reminded about how magically strong this young man was. 

Yusuf had the right of it; if Farid had been turned, he would have been powerful beyond belief. He was cunning and calculating, charming and bright and the world would not have stood a chance. But, thanks to the determination and bravery of one damaged little boy who should not have survived, Armageddon had not occurred, the world was safe and an ancient evil had been turned away, for now at least.

Severus shuddered and took Farid’s hand. “Shall we go in for dinner, love?” he asked, looking lovingly into Farid’s eyes.

Farid smiled and nodded, together they led the way. Behind them Severus could hear the others discussing the strange encounter. “I am bloody glad that the bastard kept away from me,” Ron was saying, “I couldn’t have coped. Merlin, if he’d asked me to follow him right then and there I’d have said, ‘Yes sir, where do you want me?’ And our Farid put up with him for years.

“Just one thing is puzzling me, though,” he continued. “Who on Earth was Temüjin?”

Draco answered this time. “Temüjin was the real name of Ghengis Khan,” he told the other boy.

“Oh, who was he then? Some well known Muggle, I suppose?” Ron asked in return.

Finally Hermione’s voice loud and clear always as they made their way to the castle and home.

“Oh Ron, you are hopeless! But I do love you.” Then the sound of Draco making fake retching noises drifted up on the evening breeze.


	46. Epilogue

Thanks Kim and Anne for making my journey so much easier. Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing and supporting me along the way ~Lucie 

 

Epilogue

It was summer again. They had just enjoyed a glorious spell of weather, and today Severus and Farid were undertaking another kind of bond: today they were to hand fast, today they were to marry.

There was a magical tent on the lawn of Severus and Farid’s cottage. It was already swarming with people, even though it was so early in the day; no one wanted to miss a thing. Friends and family thronged about and children were everywhere. A number of them belonged to various friends. Ron and Hermione alone had five children, their oldest girl Ginny was to be a bridesmaid today. Remus had married his Nymphadora, though nobody dared call her that; an erstwhile Auror, she had retired when she married Remus and started having babies (three in all so far) and was currently helping to run the orphanage of which Remus was one of the directors. Apparently she got far more excitement working with the children than she ever did as an Auror, evil had gone very quite since Farid had killed Voldemort.

Then of course, there were the Potter Children, forty-three in total, mostly boys. They were a cheerful, generally good-hearted bunch that were fortunate to be cared for and supported by such dedicated, loving guardians. Both Sirius and Adrian had had difficult childhoods and they were determined to make sure that none of their boys or girls ever felt lost or unwanted. Farid spent large chunks of time with them, and there were several possible future quidditch stars in the making amongst them. Severus spent time there too, especially when Farid was away, and he was always assured of a warm welcome. It felt very strange to him to be surrounded by children who were once his contemporaries. Many of them had endured dreadful childhoods, but were, this time, growing up in a place that was close to perfect. 

Of course, a bad childhood was not the only thing that made someone decide to make so many wrong choices. Look at Farid - his childhood had been nightmarish, horrific. He should have been bitter, vengeful, and unable to love. But Severus suspected that Farid was a very special case; there were not many souls as pure as his in the world. But as far as these particular children were concerned, Severus thought that their second upbringing had definitely been a triumph on the part of so many people and had more than proved the experiment a success on the whole, so far anyway. 

Their cottage was quite a large dwelling set deep in the Quantock Hills, well away from the prying eyes of Muggles and Wizards alike. It had a huge four-acre garden, which included a small clear lake. They had bought it six years ago now, as a retreat from the rest of the world, somewhere that they could spend time together, safe and private and secure. They called it ‘Summer Cottage,’ and no matter where he was in the world, which team he was playing for, Farid made sure that he could be at home during the long summer break so that he could spend most of his time with Severus. 

They would just be together then, reading and walking and pottering about. Swimming on the lake, making potions and spending time with a cat that had grown into a formidable mouser, but who nonetheless still liked a nice cuddle, a warm lap and to have his ears tickled.

Sometimes Severus had worried about the age difference between him and Farid and, when his boy had first hit the International Quidditch circuit, Severus had been convinced that Farid would fall for someone else and not want him anymore. But that never happened; he always came home to his lover.

Farid had matured too; he had grown several more inches and was now 5ft 9ins, still smaller than Severus, but big enough. He had wide shoulders and laughing eyes that crinkled when he smiled and hair that was as unruly as ever but that only curled as far as the base of his neck these days. He was strong too, Severus’ lover, with a firm muscled chest and rock hard thighs. They made love often and, over the years, Farid became more forceful; but nevertheless, no matter how strong he was, how famous he became, he often submitted to Severus only these days he did it by choice. 

Severus could never express how much this meant to him - to have a world class quidditch player, the most powerful wizard in the world, quivering beneath him, trembling with need, begging for release. Often when they made love, Farid would forget himself, forget that he was now Harry Potter, International Quidditch Star, Saviour of the Wizarding World and part time guardian to the Potter Children and give in completely to Severus’ ministrations, just as he had when he was a little slave.

For years Farid had begged Severus to marry him, but until now he had always refused. It was not that he did not want to be bonded as a husband to his erstwhile slave; it was just that he wanted Farid to experience true freedom, to be able to leave if he wanted to.

He finally gave in when he realised at last that Farid wasn’t planning on going anywhere; and, having played quidditch at an international level for five years - playing for England three times now, twice as captain - Farid had had enough of travelling the world and was coming home for good.

And right now, he was standing in front of his mirror, trying to tie a cravat. Draco had been the one to choose the wedding outfits and he had decided on cravats as part of the outfit. Draco and Seamus were the leading rivals to Madam Malkin these days, though Draco was not often seen without a very exuberant Lucius in tow. 

Lucius Malfoy was an active, jolly little boy, full of energy and excitement; he was usually filthy dirty and totally dishevelled. This Lucius was very different from the supremely elegant, narcissistic boy that Severus remembered from his childhood. Severus suspected that, this time round, he was seeing the true Lucius, not the one who had had manners and decorum beaten into him by an ogre of a father.

Today Luc was one of the page boys, and had been loudly complaining to a despairing Draco about having to wear white, rather than his favourite apparel - of all things, a pair of muggle jeans.

Lucius did not spend a lot of time with the other Potter Children, but he did have lessons with them and as ever he was still a natural leader, with many friends. Severus suspected that his outfit would no longer be totally white by the time the ceremony began.

There were so many people here today to celebrate their union. Amelia Bones, who was still known as ‘the new Minister’, even after several years in office. She presided over a magical world that had long last found peace, and didn’t that make things so much better? The Heads of a number of magical families were of Farid’s generation. They saw things very differently from the way that their parents had and reform was under way in a number of areas of life. Those who had revelled in hatred and promoted distrust were either dead or reliving their childhood.

Two years ago, Severus had discovered what had happened to Fudge after he had been deposed. He had a job cleaning Muggle toilets at Hyde Park Corner. Severus took great pleasure in telling everyone what had happened to the man. Sirius then took even greater pleasure in visiting the facilities regularly, just to check how clean they were. Especially as Fudge had to do his cleaning by hand - there were far too many tourists about for him to be able to use magic.

But on the whole, even Sirius Black had matured. Thanks to the work he had taken on and the support and love of his big American.

All the members of staff from the Potter House were here today, with the exception of Stuart Johnson, Farid’s erstwhile rapist. He had come out of prison, with nowhere to go and no-one prepared to give him shelter. Colburn disappeared, he had not been seen since, but Johnson it seemed was still wracked with guilt. Farid had finally taken pity on him after he had started to haunt whatever building Farid was in, looking lost and forlorn. He had been taken on as caretaker to the Potter Children and, after a very tough time at first, had finally settled down. But he was not here today; Farid could not have borne that.

Farid still had dreams; he still woke screaming from time to time. Once in a while he had flashbacks and nothing except being held and soothed by Severus would make them go away. Of course since his time in Farid’s memories, Severus knew vividly just how terrible those memories were. For the last five years he had carried an emergency portkey on his person at all times and would instantly travel to his lover’s side whenever he was needed.

When flashbacks happened, Farid would climb naked into his lap and tremble with fear; Severus would affix his collar and just hold him and let him mutter in Kazakh and stroke him gently and tell him how much he was loved. And for now at least, most of the time, for both of them, that was enough. 

They had not lessened over the years these incidents; oh they were less frequent than they had been, but when they did occur they would last for longer and he and Farid had just accepted them as a part of life, whilst he had his Severus, Farid insisted, he would always make it through the terrifying interludes.

Farid had changed beyond all recognition in recent years. He was strong, confident, powerful. At least these were the qualities he showed to the outside world. Only Severus saw the other Farid, Severus or sometimes one of their friends. The Farid that would always remain a lost and frightened little boy, the Farid that sometimes fell apart, that couldn’t quite cope on his own. But of the two of them Severus thought that he had changed the most. He had always been a bitter man, one who angered easily and forgave only rarely. Thanks to Farid all that had changed.

He was still irascible, sarcastic, bad tempered. But he also laughed so much more; he had friends now, whose company he enjoyed. No in many ways he was very like Farid, he too was a frightened child inside who needed his lover to keep _him_ strong 

Severus turned around to find himself being watched by a pair of sparkling green eyes.

“You need some help, Severoos?” Farid still had a Kazakh accent, but it was a gentle one these days. He had moved closer to his lover and was adjusting the cravat. His lashes were lowered as he concentrated on the job he was doing, and for a moment Severus had a flashback of his own - to a sweet boy, kneeling naked in front of him, offering his body for Severus’ pleasure. It could all have been so different, such a different world without Farid in it: if he had left the boy behind; if Yusuf had spotted his potential; if Severus had been given another toy that night. Severus couldn’t help himself, he took Farid in a fierce embrace and kissed him firmly demandingly, and Farid smiled into the kiss then just melted against him and let him have his fill.

As he often did when they were making love, Farid vanished his clothes. He still preferred being naked, and spent much of their time together wearing very little, or indeed nothing at all.

Severus lowered his Farid tenderly to the floor and proceeded to kiss him even more passionately, and Farid responded; he wrapped his arms around his lover and returned each kiss and caress. Severus, who as usual was enormously aroused by this beautiful powerful man writhing underneath him, took full advantage of the privilege he had been given, and wasted no more time and ravished his beloved Farid.

Afterwards as they lay entwined together on the floor, with Farid’s head resting against Severus’ chest; he wished that they could never move, just lie here together in the sanctity of their own bedroom, skip this whole wedding thing and simply be together.

But later, when he stood by the dais where Albus waited to marry them and watched his beautiful boy, now all grown up, walk towards him in a dark blue robe, he changed his mind again: this time the bond would be an equal one; this time it really was unbreakable and could only be severed by death.

And later still, as the day was ending and he and Farid prepared to leave, he knew that the ceremony had been truly beautiful and moving and that he would remember it for all of his days and that somehow, thanks to the powerful magic, he felt, if anything, even closer to Farid.

They stood by the small lake that they loved so much hand in hand and this time Farid kissed Severus, his eyes dancing with the promise of further delights to come and together they transformed and took to the wing.

Six months after the final battle with Voldemort, Farid had decided that he was going to be an animagus too; he was going to be a swan. It had taken him that amount of time for his magic to be strong enough to even attempt the transformation. Everyone had told him that he would not be able to choose his animagus form, that it was unlikely that his form would be the same as his Patronus, that he was still too weak to attempt it.

But everyone had to eat their words when they turned from their arguing to find a large white Hooper Swan, sitting in Farid’s place on the sofa.

After that, Severus and Farid would often transform together and take off for a remote loch somewhere for a day or two, or even just spend time together lazily gliding around their own private lake.

But now the two of them flapped their enormous white wings and flew just once around the garden, over the tent in a farewell to their guests. Whilst the music played on all night and the fairy lights twinkled in the trees and people laughed and danced and fell in love all over again.

And Severus and Farid headed north, to a remote lochan in Caithness and a little magical inn near a glorious beach where they might just spend some time. This time Severus had no doubt that his relationship was indeed forever and always, because didn’t everyone know, after all, that swans mated for life?

_finis_


End file.
